


Winter Moon

by Sylenis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Animal Violence, F/M, Fantasy AU, I'll add tags as I update and as characters appear, Lance appears, Magic, Matt appears, Mild Gore, Pidge is Sick, Red Riding Hood AU, Sam's dead sorry, Shiro appears, cw emetophobia, cw threats, cw vomit, please check the notes before reading, sex scene, slowburn, some fantasy violence, talk of blood and violence, the vomit and sex is unrelated promise.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylenis/pseuds/Sylenis
Summary: Red Riding Hood AU.Keith is a mercenary hunter taking on jobs nobody else wants to do. He goes to investigate rumours of a wild beast attacking a village and comes across even stranger creatures.
Relationships: Keith/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 45
Kudos: 127





	1. "I'm here about a wolf"

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU story that's been banging around in my head for months. Heavily inspired by stuff like Little Red Riding Hood, Shiver (part of a series by Maggie Stiefvater that I read a long time ago) with some Once Upon a Time sprinkled in, Geohounds like Ryudo from Grandia 2, and I'm also still really into Horizon: Zero Dawn so bows and arrows are in this OK? OK.
> 
> This will be mature, possibly explicit. The first chapter does involve animals being hunted and killed for food/resources so if you're upset by that kind of stuff please don't read it. It'll be mentioned in later chapters too. Certain Holt family members are also dead so there's that too.

☆

If you listened to the human who had been nailing the bounties to the city's noticeboard, the Olkari woods were haunted.  
  
After crossing the borders into the forest and making his way through in the direction of the afflicted village, it hadn't taken long for Keith to decide.   
_Something_ had settled amongst the trees, yes. But haunted? No. Humans equated magic with ghosts too quickly and too often. He'd bet his last coins that this was magic disturbing the forest and terrorizing villagers. It hummed in this place, filling his chest as he breathed it in and singing in his blood.  
  
The sun was low in the sky, yellow light filtering through the branches and casting long, creeping shadows that beckoned him further down the trails. A chilled breeze whispered through naked flora that chittered to him as he walked on and yes, maybe to a lesser man the woods might seem haunted.  
  
He paused to look closer through the trees. Barren as they were in the winter, he still was unable to see any sort of thinning that might indicate he was close to the town. Once the sun went down the temperature would too; he would do well to find shelter if any sort of Inn was too far to reach before dark. It was cold, perhaps not enough for snow, but he didn't trust the iron-grey clouds that had been rolling in since late afternoon.  
  
Something skittering in the undergrowth made a pointed ear twitch, and he raised his bow in the direction of the sound. The rabbit barely ventured more than its nose out of the ground when his arrow pierced it with a satisfying thud and it keeled over into the path.   
Small, but would do him a hot meal tonight once he got a fire going. His pockets were woefully light of both food and gold, and without any more glamour charms, he'd be lucky if any merchants sold to him. This 'haunting' better be over quickly, and the gold in his hand promptly.  
  
He stopped at the rabbit and tugged his arrow from it, and pretended to examine the arrowhead for damage for a moment. His knife was in his belt, but he'd not let go of the bow yet so he'd have to use that. On the next footstep he pursed his lips... and whirled around, arrow notched and pointing straight at-  
  
  
A girl. 

  
A rather sour-looking girl, who didn't seem particularly concerned about the bloodied arrow pointing between her eyes.  
"That's my rabbit." She said, and he couldn't help his double-take, grip slackening for just a second.  
  
"What?"  
"The rabbit. It's mine- you stole it."  
"I didn't see your arrow in its temple." He retorted coolly, but didn't let up on the tension in his bow. This girl was small, but had the air of someone who'd fight if they didn't get their way.  
"I saw it first." She snapped. "I was guiding it to my trap before you showed up, thief."  
  
He glanced at the spot where he'd first spotted the wee beast and sure enough, a wire trap was planted mere inches away. He looked back to the girl. Men's leather hunting gloves came way too high up her arms, only a small flash of freckled elbow between them and the tied up sleeves of her blouse. Though she wore skirts, they were thick and heavy- protection against the cold and thorns alike- and a deep mossy green patched with ashen brown cottons.   
  
This contrasted strangely with the cloak knotted around her shoulders and pushed back to free her arms. It was also patched in places, trimmed and sewn back together but despite its obvious age, it remained a dark crimson- stark like fresh blood against her white throat. Aside from that monstrosity, she passed quite easily as a Trapper's daughter, tools and wires strapped to a heavy worker's belt hooked through loops in the sides of her corset.  
  
She was watching him with guarded yellow eyes from under a thick tangle of dark brown hair, pulled back from her face in an array of braids and ties. A quick glance at her ears and- yes, she was human.  
  
He breathed in, and pulled back on his arrow.  
  
The girl didn't even flinch as he swung left and fired into the thicket. A shriek this time, and another rabbit rolled down from the brambles.  
  
"There." He said, lowering his weapon. "Now we both have one."  
She didn't respond or even move, just continued to stare at him mulishly.  
"Take it." He jerked his head in the direction of the rabbit. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of stealing from a human girl while out in these woods. He'd end up locked away in jail before he could open his mouth to protest.  
  
"What are you doing in the forest?" She asked instead, and Keith frowned.  
"I could ask the same of you. It's dangerous out here, I've heard."  
"I've walked these woods for nineteen years and never come to harm. I've never seen you in them before either."  
  
"I'm a Hunter. I'm here about a wolf."   
  
At this, her gaze seemed to sharpen even more, her jaw setting harder.  
"Can you tell me anything about that? Apparently the woods are haunted-"  
"No- not haunted." She interrupted him. "It's no ghost. It's a beast. A monster."  
  
Keith nodded inwardly to himself, pleased his assessment was correct, or that at least someone else agreed with him. She seemed to be growing more agitated though; so far her stance had been completely still, confident, but now she shifted her weight back and forth, absurdly large gloves creaking as her fists clenched and unclenched.  
  
"You've seen it?"  
She shook her head no. "Only stories from the men who've tried to hunt it. It's a wolf, but as big as a man, and teeth that can rip him in two." She looked back up at him, curious. "Are you going to kill it?"  
  
The first raindrops began to fall. They tapped at his hood and clung to the fur mantle tied around his shoulders. The girl had a hood on her ludicrous cloak- he could see her masses of hair tucked into it- but she made no move to pull it up over her face.  
"No," he said finally, and at her raised eyebrow and scoff, continued, "I need to see it first. I need to know what it _is._ "  
" _What it is_ , is a monster." The girl snapped back, voice rising over the rainfall. "It's attacking people in this village, it killed- it... It should be killed."  
"Maybe so, but I'm the Hunter here, not you. I need to see it with my own eyes."  
  
The girl huffed in annoyance, sweeping around to take the felled rabbit from where it lay. She looked back over her shoulder at him.  
"Well, are you coming?"  
  
"What?" He frowned again, sure he must have misheard her over the increasingly heavy rain. Even through his cloak the drops were cold, lashing at his arms and legs and stinging his cheeks. The air wasn't quite cold enough to turn the rain to snow, but it still felt like ice on his skin.  
"What, you want to camp out in the rain all night?" She scoffed, turning back to face him and finally tucking her hood up and over her hair. "You'll freeze, mister Hunter. My house isn't far. You can dry off by the fire, cook your kill. Rest."  
  
Without waiting for a response the girl set off down the path, tucking her cloak closer around her shoulders and ducking her head down against the rain. He stared after her, mouth slightly open, and then shut it and ran to catch up with her.  
  
"You don't even know me." He said as he drew level with her. She barely reached his shoulders, even when she straightened up to smirk at him.  
"I know you're probably not waterproof."  
"Still, you're inviting a stranger with _weapons_ into your home. What about your parents? Didn't they tell you not to speak to strangers?"   
Especially not ones like him?   
  
This time she stopped dead and looked at him from under her hood, damp strands of hair clinging to her face. As dim as the light was out here, she had to have noticed his purple skin or his eyes that would reflect the moonlight like a cat's. She couldn't possibly think he was human. He knew the stories others spread about the Galra- especially mercenaries and hunters like him.

That they'd rob you blind as soon as look at you, that they were aggressive and mindlessly violent. That they bathed in the blood of their kills, that they howled at the moon. He'd have expected a lone human girl to run the moment she laid eyes on him.  
  
"My father would want me to be kind to a traveller caught by the weather." She answered quietly. "Give me your name, and you won't be a stranger anymore."  
  
He fumbled around his tongue for a moment. "Keith."   
She raised an eyebrow and a smile pulled at one side of her lips. "Keith?" She repeated.  
"'Keith' nets me more jobs than 'Yorak'." He responded dryly and she nodded.  
  
"My name is Katie... but most people call me 'Pidge'." 'Pidge' continued to walk down the path, and he followed.  
"I see I'm not the only one with two names."   
She only laughed as she trudged on, hiking her cloak up a little to keep it out of the mud.  
  
They were silent the rest of the walk, chins tucked in to keep out of the rain and starting to hurry as thunder rumbled in the distance. The light was quickly fading and though Keith could see just fine, the girl- Pidge- had one arm raised up over her forehead to try and help her see the path before her.  
  
At one point she swung off to the right, up a narrow trail worn down by years of boot steps, through more trees that thinned out to a small brick house nestled on the outskirts of the woods. Pidge hopped over a tripwire set at the gate and he copied her, boots spattering in the ground when he landed. He stood a little ways back as she unlocked the door and undid yet another trap. He raised an eyebrow.  
  
Pidge bustled in, taking a low-burning lantern and kneeling by the hearth to start tending to a fire, embers and coals still breathing orange, but starting to die out. Keith breathed in. This house was full of magic, he could practically taste it on his tongue. Runes were carved into the beams and over doors, little packets of herbs tied up sat on the mantle with tags attached. He half expected her to light the fire with magic; tendrils of it clung to her as well, but she produced a tinderbox from one of her pouches and began to build up wood for the fire with her hands.  
  
There were lines and lines of animal skins in various stages of tanning strung up from the beams, and more tools scattered over a table in the corner. Winter carrots and some other assorted vegetables and mushrooms were tied up in bunches as if to sell rather than eat herself. Was she alone in here? There were other doors that presumably led off to more rooms in the house, but nobody had greeted her. There was only one bowl and cup at the table, the bucket of water by the fire that she filled the kettle from was small, and of the warming pans hung on the wall, all but one were covered in dust as she pulled two down and began to rub her sleeve over the dirtier of the two.  
  
"I think there's enough stew in the pot for you to have some too," Pidge said, standing back from the now crackling fire, "Take your cloak off. We can hang everything over by the fire."  
  
Keith hung back a little as Pidge retrieved a clothes horse, unfastened her cloak and threw it over the rack with a wet slap. She didn't remove any more clothes other than her tool-belt, but stood close to the fire and wrung her hair out onto the stone floor. He wasn't sure if he felt comfortable removing his things. This could all be a ruse. She could be part of a ring of bandits, using her to lure unsuspecting travellers to this house, warm them and feed them so that they fell asleep- making it easier to rob them and slit their throats for good measure.  
  
She mostly ignored him as she set about filling the warming pans, shaking coal into them and wandering off down to the other doors. He fidgeted a little; his wet armour was heavy and uncomfortable, clinging to him in all the wrong places and his boots squelched every time he shifted his weight. He didn't need to look out of the window to know it was still raining- large drops were lashing at the windows and the roof, filling the silence with the wet drumbeat of a storm. Gingerly, he removed the strap that held his quiver and bow and set them off to the side of the fire. He didn't remove his knife. 

  
  
"I'm not going to eat you." Her voice rang out from behind him, and his fingers twitched over the hilt of his blade. He glanced her up and down- she'd swapped out for a dry shirt and breeches that were rolled up at the ankles, a bundle of her sopping clothes in her arms. She was a skinny little wench if ever he saw one- all elbows and angles, even shorter without her boots, and much lighter on her feet. 

She cast a smirk over her shoulder as she hung her clothes up by the fire and with a scowl he shrugged off his cloak and hefted it onto the rack as well.  
  
"Here, there's a bed for you." She beckoned him further into the house, around a corridor to a door. The room was small, one wall taken up with a groaning bookshelf, a trunk at the end of a bed and curtains drawn shut. He lingered in the doorway as she peeled back the blankets to check the warming pan.  
  
When she straightened up and caught his eye again, she frowned at the sight of him standing awkwardly in the doorway.  
"There's being kind..." He said slowly, in response to the look on her face. "And there's offering me a bed and a meal. Why are you doing this?"  
  
The line of her mouth thinned for a moment, and then she stuck her jaw out at him. "You said you're taking on the wolf. You go after it cold, tired and hungry you'll get killed for sure."  
"You want it gone."  
"Doesn't everyone? Isn't that why they posted jobs asking for Hunters? It's killing people; of course I want it gone."  
  
Keith looked at the girl, standing in the middle of the unused bedroom that was layered with dust and musty air, and wondered who exactly she'd lost. She was no child, but she certainly shouldn't be alone.   
"OK. I get it, of course you do. Thank you- for your hospitality. I apologize if I seem ungrateful. I'm... not used to it."  
  
For a moment she didn't respond, she twisted at the hem of her blouse and then nodded to herself. "I'm going to find you something to wear. You'll get sick standing around in wet clothes."  
He stepped aside to let her leave and closed the door behind himself. She was right. Even with the fire warming the house he was starting to shiver, his hair was still damp, odd droplets running down the back of his neck. Perching on the edge of the bed, he started unlacing his boots, loosening the ties on his gloves, his bracers and guards and letting them clunk to the floor.  
  
His hands rested on the buckle of his belt for several moments as he debated his options. Did he trust her, this strange, wild girl living alone in the woods? This house was full of traces of magic- now that he'd spent some time inside it, he could tell it was old spells, nothing new had been cast in here for some time. She reeked of it too, it rolled off her in waves and yet if she was a magic user, she showed no outward signs of it. It was enough to raise his suspicions. Dark magic and earthly wickedness alike often hid behind a lovely face, so her small stature and big doe eyes did little to alleviate those suspicions. He couldn't be sure that she had anything to do with the attacks, not without more information he'd have to gather later, but he couldn't be sure she _didn't_ have anything to do with them either. There was just too much that was odd about her.  
  
Equally, he told himself, it could be grief. Clearly she had lost someone. The house wasn't built for just one girl. Other people had lived here, so where were they now? Was this her family home, or was she simply squatting? Left homeless and adrift after an attack?   
  
Somehow, he thought he'd be safe here tonight. The image of her adamant eyes, staring him and his arrows down, ready to fight over a _rabbit_ made him crack a smile as he unhooked the knife from his belt, and laid it on the bed.  
  
☆  
  



	2. "Are you always this nosy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW side character deaths mentioned. Not much detail but the premise of animal attacks is going to be grisly if you're imaginative.

Keith's tunic was sticking to him uncomfortably- the thick fabric was heavy and even more unyielding as he tried to adjust himself to peel it from his skin. He shivered again, but partly in relief as the wet leathers came away from his body, leaving him cold as the air seemed to rush into his skin.  
  
"I found you some-" The voice rang out and Keith flinched and lunged for his knife- with all the clunking of his under armour he hadn't heard the door open up again. Pidge was once again on the other end of his weapons, and this time her face was slack with shock, grip on the pile of clothes in her arms visibly loosening as her eyes roamed. There was no way he could miss how she lingered on the long sharp claws on both his bare hands and feet- or the lighter purple on his stomach and underarms, the dark stripes that curled from his spine round to his ribs. White fangs bared as his lips pulled back in a snarl that he immediately regretted.  
  
Finally, her wide eyes met his slitted ones and immediately dropped to the floor as her face flushed bright red.   
"These should fit you- sorry-" She mumbled, thrusting the clothes at him and darting away again.   
  
The illusion was shattered. Keith flopped back to sit on the bed, head in one shaking hand, knife still gripped in the other. Of course she'd be frightened. How must he have looked? Semi-naked and towering over her in a dark room with a knife at her breast? She was just a human, probably never seen a galra before him. He'd thought she seemed quite the practical sort- not one to judge, but then again why did he expect anything different?   
At least in the Altean Capital, there were enough people from all walks of life that he didn't stand out as much. Whenever his work brought him to smaller towns like these his skin would crawl from all the eyes on him. It was rarer to meet the likes of alteans, arusians and galra out here, so they were a novelty to small townsfolk, and Hunters even more so.  
  
Finding an inn would be a better bet tomorrow night. At least he could cope with strangers outwardly sneering or peeking at him. Much easier than seeing a sweet smile turn to revulsion.  
  
With a sigh, he turned to the pile of clothes and unrolled the shirt. It was thick and would be warm. The cotton was plain but didn't seem like it would be scratchy. Keith pulled it on over his head, straining a little as the fabric clung to the last vestiges of rain caught on his head and shoulders. The sleeves were a little long, but easy to fold back over his wrists. He sniffed, and then pulled the neckline up to his nose. There was soap, filling his nose with a floral scent, and the girl... ah- behind her, underneath was what had caught his attention. It was faint, perhaps undetectable to her, but the shirt still smelled of another - a human male, if his nose was correct. She had worn this shirt recently but before her? It had belonged to someone else.   
  
The breeches were similar, though he could hazard a guess she hadn't worn these much. They'd been made for someone slim, perhaps a little taller and lankier than he was, as he loosened the ties down the sides and on the waist, but they were soft and comfortable.   
His boots were still wet and she hadn't brought him anything in the way of footwear- he looked in his pack for socks but came up empty. Barefoot it was. He floundered a little while, checking his pack over again, and picking up, putting down and recollecting his gear, before looking back at the door. He'd have to face her at some point.  
  
He poked his head through the door, glancing around at the empty corridor. The sounds of pots and pans banging were coming from the main room, and a kettle starting to whistle. He slipped out and into the rest of the house. He'd dry his clothes, rest a little while and then be on his way. If he had coin he might have considered leaving her some for her troubles.  
  
Keith stopped at one of the wooden frames in the wall. It was notched, but not with runes. Horizontal lines were cut into the wood from down near his knees, and up to a little past his waist. Names and numbers accompanied the gouges. _"Katie- age 9", "Matthew- age 11_ ½ _.".  
  
Age 9. Age 6 _¾ _. Age 4.  
  
_She had grown up here. This was her family home. He traced the clumsily scratched 'E' in her name, and glanced up to where more runes watched over the doorway. Protection spells, symbols meant to bring good luck, to show love. He didn't know the full intentions or meanings behind all of them- perhaps Allura or Shiro would have been able to tell him- but this was beyond his basic knowledge.  
  
Pidge was spooning food onto two plates, the remnants of a loaf of bread sliced up and divided evenly between them. He cleared his throat from the entryway to the room. The fire was roaring nicely, waves of heat washing over him and drying the last remnants of moisture from his hair. The yellow light filling up the room was almost cheery against the distant thunder. Heavy woven blankets were thrown over seats and more bookshelves that held a mix of what looked like recipe books, pans, mortars and jars of herbs and spices. He could see this being a cosy place to grow up, as he folded his clothes over the spare bars on the horse.  
  
Pidge looked up from the pot on the table and picked up one of the plates. There was a blush grazing her cheeks as she stormed up to him and held out the meal.  
"Here. I'm sorry for barging in on you. I've been alone awhile, and forgot that knocking on doors is a thing people do."  
  
"It's alright." Keith heard himself say before he had a chance to process what she'd said. He took the plate from her. "I'm- sorry. If I frightened you."  
She just shrugged and thrust a fork and spoon onto his plate for him. "It's stew, I forget exactly what I put in it, but it's good. There's water, or herbal tea mixes on the shelves, just help yourself."  
  
"Thank you." He mumbled and watched as she retreated to the table and picked up her knife, spreading butter onto a slice of the bread before tearing into it with her teeth. By her own plate, she had a little bound ledger of sorts, and she scribbled in it with her left hand as she ate with her right, crossing out and ticking off lines on the page. Keith ventured to the opposite end of the table and sat down right at the edge, putting down his plate and starting to mix at the food on it.  
  
"Doesn't anyone else live here?" He asked her, watching her write a note down on her page.  
"Nope." She grunted, taking another mouthful of her food. "Just me."  
  
His eyes were once again drawn to the rafters- the carvings along them. The jars of plants and herbs, labelled in the common tongue and then more symbols. They buzzed as if waving for his attention.  
"Who wrote all these runes?" This time she looked up at him, eyes narrowed.  
"Are you always this nosy?"  
  
He huffed through his nose with a shrug of his shoulders. "'Knowledge or death'."  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Was just curious."  
  
She didn't take her eyes off him, lips pursed and pencil tapping at the table. When he lowered his gaze and went back to eating, she dropped her shoulders again and went back to her ledger.  
He didn't ask any more questions, just focused on his food and the scratching of pencil and paper across from him. With a small huff, the writing stopped and he looked up to see her massaging her wrist with her other hand, sitting back a little to hold the limb closer to her chest. She was biting her lip, frustration and discomfort written clearly on her face and when she glanced up to see him watching her she stopped, letting her hands drop into her lap.  
  
"There an inn, in the village?" He prompted in what he hoped was a casual tone, thinking to take the attention from her hands by pretending he hadn't noticed, but something flickered across her face and she looked even more dejected.  
"Yes, a small one but I don't know if they're opening rooms." She said quietly. "The keeper and his son- they met with the beast."  
  
"Ah. Shit." That was not the answer he'd been hoping for.  
"Shit, indeed." Pidge said, more to herself than to him, then looked back up at him. "You're a Hunter? Is it... just animals, or..?" She let the question trail off, and he raised a brow at her.  
  
"You always this nosy?" He quipped.  
"I answered two of your three."   
"Have you ever met a Hunter before?"  
"No." Pidge shook her head. "A few have passed through the village, but we're not a big place and we're not near many big trade routes. We mostly just get merchants on their way to Arus."  
  
"Most 'Hunters' will take any job for the right price, myself included," Keith said, "Sometimes it's criminals who have a warrant out for their arrest. Occasionally items of interest. But yes, I'm trained to deal with magic and the kind of creatures it spawns. I'm good at tracking, and sensitive to magic, so..." He flexed his hand, displaying the thick, claw-like nails on his fingers. "I think I can take whatever it is out there."  
"But you guys get a bad rap? I- don't know much about it..." Pidge had forgone her pencil and cutlery to take her mug, holding the steaming beverage close and tapping her fingers on the china.  
"Like I said, we'll take any job if there's coin in it. Including more unsavoury tasks. Stories go around that Hunters are violent, or low-class but most of us are just trying to make a living."  
  
Pidge nodded but didn't answer. She stared into her mug, seemingly mulling over his words, before standing up with her drink held to her chest.  
"I'm going to turn in. I'm up early to run errands in the village. I can show you the way tomorrow if you need."  
  
"Not worried about having a stranger in your house while you sleep?"  
"I own a lot of knives." Pidge replied with a smirk, and headed out of the room, leaving Keith alone to finish his food and stare at the strange, small house he'd found himself in. By the time he crawled under the blankets in the bed he'd been given, he was very grateful for the warming pans, warming him to his core in a way he hadn't experienced since leaving the Capital. It was hard to stay alert when he was so full and warm, even facing the door to the room, hand under the pillow where his knife was hidden. There might have been the odd clunk from the room the girl must be in, but it was hard to hear over the rain drumming on the roof. Even his thoughts wandering back to the job he had to complete didn't keep him from nodding off quickly.  
  


☆

  
The cold weather had not been kind to the ground outside. Where it wasn't mushy underfoot with hidden puddles that were shin-deep, patches that hadn't seen the early morning sun yet were still frozen, the mud crackling underfoot and slippery. The hairs on Keith's arms stood up in a feeble attempt to warm his limbs, and he tugged his cloak tighter around himself.   
  
Boots on, belt strapped to his waist and mantle fastened around his shoulders, he needed to go into town today. Claim the job, dig for details, gather the information he needed and then he could begin tracking. His breath rose in a cloud before him and he grumbled to himself. Hunting in the winter was never fun.  
  
The garden out front of the house looked like it had been built and planted with great care; old but sturdy planters separated beds for vegetation, and barrels stood in rows, marked for what herbs were planted in them. He supposed in the spring this garden must be very colourful, but right now it was all very brown, very grey.   
  
Stomping footsteps coming from the treeline made him turn around. Pidge had box traps balanced across her shoulders, furred bodies limp inside them. There was no missing her against the silver barked trees and watery white sunlight; the scarlet cloak had dried overnight and was billowing behind her like a flag.   
"Ready to go into town?" She called as she saw him, dumping the traps down by the front door, stamping the mud off her boots and wringing her wrists before disappearing inside. She came back out, slinging a large bag over her shoulder and a basket crooked in her arm. He nodded wordlessly and followed when she took the lead. He had everything he needed.  
  
"It's about half a mile up this path." She pointed with her free arm, and then dug in her basket to retrieve the book she'd been writing in last night, checking over the list she'd made.  
Sure enough, there were the distant tops of roofs visible in the distance and smoke starting to ribbon up into the sky. The paths were all dirt, sometimes stony in places but never bricked. There were fields beyond the trees, separated by hedgerows and stone walls. They were all empty, not even a pair of hardy goats in sight. Had the animals been brought in away from the danger?  
  
"OK," Pidge said as they neared the village perimeter, jerking him out of his thoughts. "The town hall's up that way. Big bell in the tower, you can't miss it. I've got places to be. Maybe I'll see you around?"   
"Maybe." Keith nodded. Pidge paused in the middle of turning left where he'd need to go right, and fidgeted.  
"If- you know. There's nowhere offering board. You can come back. To my place, I mean."  
"Oh." Keith felt a little taken aback at her offer. "Thank you, Pidge."   
  
She swatted his words away as though they meant nothing. "I'll see you later, mister Hunter." And with a flash of garish red she was gone, trotting down a path towards little brick houses not unlike hers.

  
☆

  
  
The village was small enough that the Town Hall seemed to double as the Chantry. Luckily it didn't appear to be a Service day and it was quiet, only a few people milling around which meant fewer eyes on him. Keith's skin crawled uncomfortably every time he came to smaller towns like this. One of the large wooden doors was already open, and so he slipped through and cast around the building, the high walls and stained windows cast the stones in a pinkish light, and his footsteps echoed on the cobbled floors, bouncing from wall to wall.   
Two men were sitting at a wooden table by the noticeboard, going over papers and drinks and when one of them clearly blanched at the sight of him he fought not to roll his eyes.  
Neither one of them spoke up as he approached, so he raised a gloved hand in greeting. "I'm here about the job."  
  
"Job?"   
"Yeah, apparently something's attacking your people. I'm here to stop it."  
One of them, an older fellow with a salt-and-pepper beard eyed him up and down. "You? Gonna stop that beast? Boy, no way a runt like you is going to do more than provide the thing a free meal."  
"Yeah, go back and tell them to send a full-grown Hunter." His mate chimed in, adjusting his spectacles as he laughed, but when Keith's lips pulled back in a sneer he quickly shut his mouth at the sight of his fangs.  
"Did you want help with this thing or not?" He asked, keeping his voice level but bored. "I've taken on my share of beasts, I just want to state my intention, and get more information on it."  
  
"Look, it's not that we don't appreciate it." The first man said quickly, appeasing. "But this thing's taken a lot of good people- everyone's scared, and one lad like you isn't-"  
"When did it start?" Keith interrupted, and the two humans glanced at each other, one of them drumming his fingers on the wooden tabletop.  
"Harvest time. It started with sheep, cattle, that sort of thing. We figured a pack of wolves or a mountain lion was just getting brave, until it started going for people."  
"Just lone targets? Where is it attacking?"  
"Lone targets, at first, and always in the woods. But see, we sent out hunting parties. More than half a dozen of our best men and women, and it took them all out. Good families, too. The Jacksons, Griffin, the Holts..."  
"Poor Katie." The younger of the men shook his head.  
  
"Katie?" Keith repeated, frowning. The same Katie? "Young woman? Lots of brown hair?"  
  
Glasses immediately narrowed his eyes. "What's it to you?"  
"I met her in the woods coming into town." Keith answered. He didn't go into detail; the looks on their faces told him exactly what they'd think about him being invited into her house.  
"We keep telling her she should stay out of them, but that girl's stubborn as a rock."  
"What happened? To her family- and everyone else?"  
  
When they both stared suspiciously at Keith, he shrugged. "The more you can tell me about this thing, how it kills, what it's doing, the easier it'll make it to identify, to do my job."  
Beardy chewed on the inside of his mouth for a moment, and then leaned in, resting his elbows on the table.  
"The Holts lived up near the woods. Nice family. Samuel was good at building and trapping, so he volunteered to join the Hunting party. Figured he could lay some traps, catch the damn thing or at least slow it down."  
Keith's stomach dropped. He knew the outcome before they said it and he closed his eyes.  
  
"Poor little lass didn't believe it when the party never came back. Went out to find him and... well. She did. They were close, Sam and Katie- he'd bring her into town since she was a tot, always helping him carry his gear, good little salesman she was, too. Nobody could stop her from running off into the woods after him."  
  
Despite the macabre subject, the two men seemed to enjoy the gossiping, the storytelling, starting to lean into the conversation as they talked. Keith fought back the revulsion rising in his throat. These were peoples' _lives_. Pidge had lost her father to this beast. He considered himself pretty hardened to the realities of his line of work. Death and destruction were part and parcel of the Hunting gig, and he'd lost count of how many times he'd followed it down. For the most part, he could shut himself off to it, and it was easier when people looked at him like that- like these two humans had looked at him when he first stepped into the building. If they didn't want him around, he'd do his job, take his fee and leave. This felt different though. He'd caught a glimpse of how Katie was living, wandering the forest like a ghost and holing up in a house full of bittersweet memories.  
  
"Worst part is-" one of them was continuing with the tale, and Keith snapped back to focus on him, "-after losing Samuel his wife took ill. Passed just before the solstice. They say it was pneumonia, but we know the truth." There was a strange, sly look on the other human's face as if waiting to see if Keith would ask. Had the beast attacked her too?  
"The wife was an herbalist." He prompted, unable to wait any longer for his audience's reaction. "And had magic too, always had a poultice or remedy for anything that ailed you. So why did she pass from it?"  
"Heartbreak, I say." Beardy shook his head, stroking his chin.  
"Or something more sinister."   
"Now you stop that. We've all been through enough. That poor girl's lost both her parents this winter, don't go making it worse gabbing like that."  
  
"So she's on her own now?"  
They looked up at him, almost surprised to hear him speak again.  
"There was a brother..." One replied, glancing to the other. "He left to study almost two years ago. Smart boy, like his father. Not really built for physical work though. Haven't seen him around in nearly a year? I expect they must have written him when his father passed."  
  
"OK. Has anyone seen it that survived? Someone who can tell me firsthand?" Rumours meant nothing when there was the risk of getting his own head ripped off by whatever had wiped out an entire party of humans. Beardy and Glasses stopped in their babbling to look at him, almost insulted.  
"Nope. People have only had glimpses. It's big. Dark fur, like a wolf but big as a man."  
"So I hear." Keith said, folding his arms. "Well. I'll head out. I'll be back when the job's done for my payment."  
  
He turned on his heel, leaving the humans to their gossip, feeling a little frustrated. It wasn't unusual- with creatures like this- for there to be few witnesses to it, but usually _someone_ would come across it and survive, or recognize the thing. Going in blind without a plan might have worked out in his early days, but he'd quickly learned that was not how a Hunter kept his limbs, or even lived long.  
  
Well. There was one person who might be able to help.   
  
Keith tucked his hood around his face and leant against the wall of the Chantry, blowing into his gloves. Once again he seemed to be being pointed in her direction- Pidge hadn't met the beast, wouldn't recognize it, but she had seen the damage it could do- its methods- firsthand. His stomach turned at the thought of asking her. What was wrong with him? He was normally upfront, blunt to the point of being rude and asking anyone else wouldn't have fazed him in the slightest. If he wanted any sort of chance to prepare for what was lurking out there, he was going to have to ask Pidge to tell him what she'd seen in the forest the morning after the Hunting party had gone out.  
  
He should go find her.  
  
  
Thankfully, her scent was easy to pick up- the smell of cold wind and mud and tanning pickle. He found her out behind a house backing a small field talking with a boy, long and lanky- almost as tall as him even as he leaned over the back of a grazing cow. He stopped shy of the fence, hanging back to watch and listen.  
  
"So I've got the bottle from last time- and two rabbits, some wild mushrooms... And a pheasant. That's enough, right?"  
"Yeah, yeah that's great, Pidge." The boy took the wrapped bundle from her and fished in the pockets of his overalls for a little pouch of coins and tossed it to her. She stowed it away in her cloak as the boy ducked around the cow and came back with a stoppered bottle of what seemed to be milk.   
"Fresh this morning from Kalternecker. And mama told me to give you this, too-" He produced a small crusty loaf of bread from under his arm and a paper package that even from here smelled of meat and pastry, but Pidge took a step back, recoiling as if he'd produced something offensive.  
  
"What? No, Lance, I can't take that, it's too much."   
"She made it especially for you. She told me to make sure you took it."  
"At least let me give you some coin-" Pidge began to dig around in her cloak, and Keith watched as the taller boy- Lance- put a hand on her arm.  
"You need that coin, Pidge- for your ticket to Altea." He pressed the loaf into her hands. "It's fine- really. Mama will kill me if I let you pay us."  
  
Altea? Was that why her house was stuffed to the gills with all those hides and meats? Why she'd been so protective over a rabbit? She was trying to earn money to leave this place. Hunting in the woods where others would no longer venture, and selling her prizes for coin to get to Altea. He plucked at the shirt she'd given him and thought of the stew that had warmed his belly last night, the bed space she'd given him out of the rain. Perhaps he could give her Allura's details; she'd be able to help Pidge find what- or who- she was looking for in the Capital.  
  
Pidge's face was rapidly turning as red as her cloak, her round ears darkening to match. He could see the struggle of pride in her face, her reluctance to accept the food the boy was now stuffing into her basket as she stammered for something to say- a card to play in protest.  
  
"I can get you more meat- I trapped grouse last night."   
"Save it." Lance cut her off. "We've got fresh milk to trade, pops has his garden, and it'll be fishing season again soon enough. We can get by- old man Iverson likes grouse; he'll pay you for it."  
"Lance..."  
"OK, OK. You got furs?" Lance prompted. He was clearly changing tack, trying to save her pride and find a way to make the transaction 'even' in her eyes. "Nadia's growing like a weed, she needs something warm."  
"I've got a fox fur ready to go."  
"Bring it over tomorrow, we'll trade for some more bread and cheese. How's that?"  
"Just a small roll." Pidge seemed to pause for a moment. "Maybe two?"   
Her friend looked surprised but nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want, Pidge."   
  
His blue eyes fell on Keith and widened in shock. He grabbed Pidge's arm and tried to yank her around him and behind the cow even as she squawked, "what the _hell,_ Lance?"   
Keith raised his arm to get Pidge's attention, and she wrenched herself out of Lance's grip, favouring and rubbing her elbow. "It's OK- I know him!"  
  
"You what- hey, don't come any closer, you!" The boy pointed a finger at Keith, who ignored him to look straight to Pidge.   
"I need to talk to you."  
  
Lance still had an arm out in front of Pidge and she slapped it away, "Knock it off, Lance. He's here about the thing in the woods."  
"Oh, so not only are you running around the forest while there's a killer _demon_ on the loose, you're talking to strange men in there too? Great, just great, Pidge, nice to know your survival instincts are completely intact." His long arms were waving in the air as he ranted, voice cracking the more words spilled from his mouth and Keith winced. He didn't like this guy. Pidge just rolled her eyes.  
"Keith, this idiot is Lance." She said. "Lance, this is Keith. He's going to kill the wolf."  
"Charmed," Keith responded dryly, "Pidge, I need to ask you something. Alone."   
  
Pidge nodded but Lance's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he ushered her back to the cow. Keith rolled his eyes and waited, arms folded and leaning his weight on one leg.  
  
" _Pidge, are you sure about this? He's twice the size of you."  
_Keith wondered if the dramatic hissing was supposed to be audible to him, or if this Lance fellow thought he was being quiet.  
"It's fine, really Lance. I can take care of myself." Pidge was whispering back.  
"I know- I know that, but I'm worried about you. Will you come stay with us for a few nights? Mama keeps saying you should come over for a while, at least over winter while it's cold. We're worried about you being alone out there, and now there's Hunters wandering the forest too."  
"It's just him. And he's fine, I've talked to him. I'll come by tomorrow with the furs, you'll see."  
Lance's shoulders sagged, but he nodded and touched her arm again   
"Take care of yourself, OK Pidge?" This time she smiled, and Keith watched the way her face softened for her friend as she returned the touch.  
"Thank you for the food. And tell your mother thanks from me as well. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
Pidge ducked back around the cow to gather up her things and returned to Keith. He nodded to Lance, who stood with his hand on the grazing cow's withers, before walking Pidge back down the path towards the village lines.  
  
"Hey, is _he_ why you asked for two bread rolls?!" Lance's voice echoed towards them and Pidge laughed.  
  
"Did you get what you needed?" She asked once they were alone again. She sat back against a stone wall, picking at stray splinters of cane in her basket's handle.  
"Mostly. Job's mine. I still need to identify it. Pidge- I don't want to ask you this, but-" Keith faltered a little, and felt unsure again as she trained her yellow gaze on him.   
"What?" She prompted, still gazing up at him and yet managing to make it feel like she was staring him down.  
"Look. The more I know about what I'm dealing with, the higher my odds of success. They told me that you've seen what it can do to people- that you found the party it attacked."   
Pidge's eyes widened and then closed and she seemed to shrink in on herself, hands clasped together over her mouth and she bowed her head away from him. He didn't want to ask this, but he wanted to deal with the beast, and so he had to. "Pidge, if you can tell me something- anything- about what you saw, it'll help me. It'll help me stop it."  
  
"I can't talk about it." She whispered into her hands, and Keith nodded.   
"I understand-"  
"I can show you, though." She continued, cutting him off and looked back up at him with large, over-bright eyes.  
"Show me?"  
  
"The attack site." She said quietly. "I can take you there."  
  
☆  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is a good bean, he just doesn't want tall dark strangers with knives hanging around Pidge. She might hurt them.  
> Keith kinda likes Pidge. He's also had to learn he can't just run into jobs, weapon swinging. That's how mistakes are made. If he's going to track a monster, he needs to know what it is first.


	3. "Please don't go."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have. SO much fanart I've done for this. But I can't post it bc spoilers.  
> I'm on twitter.com @SylenisArts if you wanna shout at me about Kidge

"You can take me?" Keith repeated. Pidge nodded silently. Her face was pale, tucked into the hood of her cloak. Stress and anxiety and something else was radiating from her, so thick he could taste it. When she reached out for her bags her fingers trembled and he was seized with the sudden urge to grab them and hold them to stop the shaking. Both her hands would fit in the palm of one of his. He bit back the desire and stood still, letting her gather her things and turn to face in the direction of her house.  
  
The walk up into the village had been quiet, but not unpleasant. They had walked with an easy purpose- each one knowing their mission once they reached their destination. This time it was tense, colder somehow even though the sun had finally reached a high spot in the sky. Her packs were empty now and they swung back and forth, bouncing off her hips with every step.  
Pidge was completely silent all the way back, stowing her things away in the doorway of her house. She hitched the folds of her cloak back over her shoulder to check her belt. There was a small knife looped on it, and she disappeared off towards her room for a few minutes, returning with her skirts swapped for the same leather breeches and a second hunting knife gripped tight in one hand. Without the bulk of the fabrics she seemed suddenly too small- all birdlike limbs that seemed dainty strapped up in worker's gloves and heavy boots- but her face was fierce on her return. As though she'd come to terms with his request and was ready to fight.  
  
"Let's do this." She stared straight up at him with her strange yellow eyes, jaw set in solidarity. If she was reluctant or afraid to go she refused to show it, striding down the path with her cloak drawn tight around her middle, fluttering behind her as they reached the treeline.  
  
Keith kept alert, hanging just a little behind her and listening for any sort of sign that they were being watched. Pidge had never sheathed her knife and it flashed occasionally as she walked, held firm by her thigh.  
  
"I suppose," she broke the silence and he nearly jumped when she did, "they must have told you what happened- to my father." Her eyes were fixed on their path ahead, but her gloves creaked as she clenched her hands.  
"They did- they said you and your father were close. I'm sorry." Stupid, silly words that fluttered around heartbreak and fell short before it. Even if he could properly articulate that he knew that pain, that he'd lost his own father in a similar way, what would it really do for her? He was a stranger, some random man she'd stumbled across in the woods and, once his job was over, would never see again. Her pain was her own, and no amount of empathizing would lessen it. Better to keep his mouth shut.  
  
It was, perhaps, why he'd felt so strongly about doing this. Knowing what it was like to have lost a parent- knowing that the wounds would still be open and fresh with the meagre amount of time that had passed, that her life would never quite manage to right itself after this and that she was now alone. Asking her to come back here was like pouring salt into those wounds, even if it would ultimately help him destroy the beast and close them up some, it was something he didn't want to do to her.   
Pidge was shaking her head as though amused.   
  
"My mother." She said quietly. "She was the one who knew Runic Magic. My father was about as non-magical as they come, and I was just like him. So yes, we were close. He taught me so much."  
"You don't have any magic? At all?" Keith frowned. Even now it was swirling around her, stronger than ever before, every time the wind moved a lock of hair or ruffled her clothing it would hit him again- to him magic felt hot, like breathing in smoke or touching burning metal, something ancient underneath the heat that he could never fathom. Pidge made it hard to breathe when he entered her proximity. It was like trying to approach an open fire, bright, and overbearingly hot.  
The protection spells her house was lovingly wrapped in were strong- but strong enough to follow her around? To increase even now?   
  
She looked up at him as though confused, head cocked to one side. "No? My mother tried to see if I could make spells work, or if I had any sort of sensitivity, but... I had nothing. I'm just me. My father taught me to work with my hands instead. Why- did you think I'd carved the runes?"  
  
"No- I just. It's all over you. Magic, I can feel it. I..." He peered closer at her and she took a step back almost instinctively, crossing her arms over herself as he looked her up and down. "Do you wear something? A-a bangle, or necklace with a spell on?"  
"No, I don't... My mother had a carved bracelet, but..." Pidge trailed off, the confused twist of her brow deepening. "she asked me to take it, but I can't bring myself to wear it, not since she passed."  
  
"Strange..." Keith muttered, and started scanning the cloak as a thought struck him. There were embroidered designs up the front hems, but nothing that caught his eye. A shiver ran down his spine, goose-flesh starting on his arms. It could be the enchantments on the house, but what if..? 

  
"What?" Pidge demanded, starting to look both irritated and slightly rattled.   
"Nothing. I'm probably just tired. Forget about it."   
"Come on then." Pidge turned on her heel and carried on through the woods, less carefully than before, infinitely louder. Keith continued to look her up and down as he followed, meticulously sweeping over every inch of her--the ribbons tying her braids, the stitching on her cloak, even the hilt of her knife. There was no way he could tell her what he was thinking.

She was wandering the same woods that Dark Magic had settled in. It wouldn't be the first time something took hold of a vulnerable, grieving soul, leeching from it or even turning it. Yet it didn't feel inherently sinister, just... Different. Shiro was better at this than him, had more years of experience and had met more beings and demons than he had. He was starting to wonder if he should have sent a message, asking his friend and mentor to meet him here. 

He'd let his guard down earlier; he liked this girl. He liked her fierce eyes and sharp tongue. Her kindness last night had surprised him and her circumstances had only endeared her to him more. He couldn't deny it.  
He'd forgotten not to trust her, that she was a stranger he'd known for less than twenty-four hours, and even with a sassy smile and small stature, she might not be what she seemed.  
He'd heard tales before of Desire Demons. Temptresses that took on the guise of beautiful beings, using their magic to look into the minds of their victims and what they found most alluring, and what their hearts most desired. Using those innermost thoughts to make a deal, usually with sex and seduction sprinkled in for good measure. 

  
While it was true that maybe he yearned for companionship a little more than he'd like to admit, a Desire Demon would have more luck tempting him with the family he'd lost rather than a 'new' one. They also definitely would not appear to him as a scrawny, mop-headed human girl with Little-Dog syndrome. He nearly snorted at the thought.

"We're here."  
The fight had left Pidge's voice, and she hung back on the brink of a clearing. The half-smile that had been tugging at Keith's cheek dropped, and when she made no move to enter the clearing, he passed her and stepped down into it himself. 

Snow and rain had long washed away any blood or earthly scents, but the air quivered with violence and grief. There was no denying this was the place. He looked back at Pidge. She was hugging herself by a tree, looking like she was about to cry or vomit, or both.   
"That night was the first snow." She croaked. "But everything was so- so red."  
Keith nodded for her that it was OK to stop talking, and she leaned on the tree while he returned to scan the area.

No bodies. No blood. That was alright- there would be other traces left behind. Broken branches were littering the floor, plants and bushes crushed and the trunk of a tree had been caved in, claw marks rending the bark apart and exposing the inner wood, still dark where the morning's frost had thawed.  
Keith spread his fingers over the marks, tracing the splintered edges that were made by something with hands and claws much bigger than his.   
"You're a big old beastie, aren't you." He murmured to the slash marks, and turned back to look at the clearing.   
Silver wire glinted from a dent in the forest floor and he fished it out, pulling until it came up from where it was partially buried in new mud. A tripwire, like the one across Pidge's gate.   
"Your father's?" He tugged it up further for her to see. Pidge nodded and closed her eyes. Unless charged with magic, these wouldn't be much use against something this big. If they had been, the charge had long since faded.

There was a broken arrow shaft embedded in another tree close by, and caught in the head was long, wiry dark brown fur. Someone had gotten in a close hit. Keith pinched the hairs and yanked them free, crouching down to roll them between his fingers, lest a stray wind blow them from his grip. Definitely not a spirit. This thing was corporeal, not that he hadn't already ruled this out on day one. 

Still squatting on his haunches, he looked around from his new level. The bodies must have been retrieved by family, and anything that had been left behind must be long gone - washed away by the elements or carried off by animals. 

Speaking of animals, this clearing was deathly quiet, even for winter. He twitched his ears to listen. There were no birds overhead, and nothing rummaging in the undergrowth. Keith glanced back to Pidge. On the first look, she was also hunched down like him, but he then realized it was not to follow along with his search- she was nearly green in the face, her skin ashy and eyes shut tight as she crouched low, letting the tree take her weight.

He crawled over to her on his feet and knuckles and touched her knee. Pidge opened her eyes, focusing on him and offered him a wan smile.  
"Is this helpful? You find anything?"  
"Yeah. This is great. Listen- you're the only one who can answer me this, I think." The ground around her wasn't particularly muddy- the dirt was cold and hard and littered with the skeletons of brown leaves, so he planted his palm on the floor and let himself sit in front of her. "You've been in these woods the last few weeks- have you noticed any unusual carcasses? Like animals that have been killed and left, or maybe picked clean?" She frowned at him and he continued. "Sometimes mages experiment on animals, and it drives them mad. In those cases, they'll attack anything they come across, and not really for food. They're usually pretty strong too- so maybe capable of taking on a party of humans." 

Pidge thought for a moment and shook her head. "Some sheep started going missing around harvest. Sometimes they were left behind, but they were- you know... 'used'. And then it took a cow from up Lance's way, nobody even realised until the next morning. They've brought the livestock in at night since then." She shifted, leaning forward a little and tipping her head down as though nauseated. "There have been the odd deer bones turn up recently, but nothing smaller than that."

"OK. I'm going to rule out a regular wolf." Keith muttered, with another glance out at the clearing. "Usually when it's an animal that's been tampered with or possessed, they're mindless, there would be dozens of things just scattered around these parts, and if it came up that close to the houses it would have made a commotion- this thing knows what it's doing. It's not wasting time on rats and birds."

He could feel her shivering through the space between them where they sat. Her eyes slid past him, to the clearing beyond and if possible she turned even paler, lip trembling even as she bit down on it. His skin prickled, hair standing on end and he suddenly felt uneasy. Whatever was big enough to have wrecked this clearing probably wouldn't be put off by a little daylight.   
"I'm taking you back," Keith said and braced his hands on his knees to push himself up to stand. Pidge stared up at him, face still a little fogged over as if she hadn't processed what he said.  
"Come on. It's not safe out here, and you look like you need to rest."

"I'm fine," Pidge grumbled, but she faltered in getting up and Keith reached his hand down for her to take.  
"Hey, I don't want that friend of yours siccing his cow on me, OK? We're going back."

Pidge huffed a small giggle, and then let him haul her to her feet.   
"Kalternecker has no drive to trample anyone. Unless you have treats in your pockets." She swayed a little and he kept hold of her hand until she steadied herself and yanked it out of his grip, hands crossing over her middle and returning to squeeze her elbows.

"Are you sure you're alright?"  
"I'm fine-" She snapped, "I can walk by myself." She said this even as she tottered to the side a little, and Keith hovered by her side, an arm out behind her to guide her. His other hand rested on the hilt of his blade- there was still a shiver poising at the back of his neck, ready to shoot down his spine at the next untoward noise.  
The forest was still eerily quiet but they made it back without seeing anything, even though Keith's eyes had darted in every direction as they walked. He just couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

Pidge was still wobbly, still shivering slightly, and he deposited her onto one of the soft blanketed sofas in the main room while he went to stoke the fire and hang the kettle over the hearth. He loaded more wood into the fireplace and directed magic to it to raise the flames and catch the kindling. When he looked back she was turned slightly away from him, curled among the blankets with her knees drawn up to her neck. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks glistening with something- oh. She was crying. Shit.

He whipped back to face the fire, a heat rising in his face that had nothing to do with the flames crackling the kindling. Shit, shit, shit.  
Demons, he could handle. Stolen possessions from feuding mages? He could retrieve them no problem. Inhuman beasts with snarling, drooling, tooth-filled maws and killer claws? A charged Luxite blade through the brain usually put a stop to that.

A crying girl? Creators help him, he wasn't trained for this. A surreptitious sniff only tugged at his insides again. 

What was he supposed to do? He glanced around for the water pail and the kettle and filled it up. While it heated he grabbed the cups from the night before and rinsed them out. The shelves that held the pots of herbs and spices felt a little intimidating to try and take in all at once, but one by one he scanned the jars until he found what he was looking for. He'd been given this tea during his final years of studying in Altea, and honestly, it had helped. The aroma of peppermint as he filled the cups brought back memories of Shiro's smile, grey eyes alight with amusement as Keith had tugged at his hair in frustration over a particularly difficult passage on Basilisks. At the time it had felt so completely useless- what's the point of just _reading_ about the beasts, he'd snapped at Shiro, why couldn't they just go out and find one, test his skills properly? That was how Hunters lost their lives, Shiro had answered. Rushing in blind, impatient was a fool's strategy. Better to be prepared. Lie in wait, gather all the information and make a plan. Well, you didn't live as long as Shiro had without picking up some good tips. And not just about monsters and magic.   
This tea should be calming, and the mint should help if she felt nauseous; she certainly looked it.

On closer inspection, Pidge was still sweating but her chin quaked with cold shivers. She had tried to sneakily wipe her face with her sleeve as he approached, mug in hand, but it only served to smear her face even more. 

"Here." He pressed the mug into her hands, not letting go until she'd properly clasped it. "I can leave- if you want to be alone." He jerked his thumb towards the door, taking a step back but she shook her head.  
"Where would you go? I asked up in the village- the inn is closed." She answered, voice cracking.   
"I'll set up camp somewhere else." He said. He had his pack. He needed to go out once the sun set anyway. If she needed space, that was fine by him.

"Please- don't? Don't go?" Pidge blurted out when he shifted his weight again. "It's just..." She looked around the room slowly, eyes wandering as if seeing things that weren't there. "My whole life, this house has been so loud. My dad making things, hammering in his shop or blowing things up. My mother singing to the plants she's repotting. It's so _quiet._ Please stay. Talk to me."  
"You had to notice I'm not much of a conversationalist," Keith said with an awkward laugh, still stood in front of her and dithering a bit about what to do. To go get his stuff? Or sit with her? He wasn't sure if he actually should go find a doctor; she really didn't look well.  
"You're fine. I just need to fill the silence." She insisted, and Keith looked over to the second tea he'd made, and came to a decision. 

He retrieved the mug and started to return to her, unsure at first if he should sit but Pidge pointed over by the front door.   
"Fetch the basket, it's got food in it." 

"Anything else, my lady?" He drawled sarcastically but went to get it anyway. He passed her the basket and sat down carefully next to her on the other side of the seat. Pidge rummaged around inside until she found the paper parcel from earlier and, using her hunting knife, cut the string to open up the cold meat pie and sliced it in two like an apple. She passed him one half and rested the other on her knee.

"What- what should I talk about?" He lifted his mug to his lips, hoping to encourage her to copy him. She did take a drink, and shrugged.  
"Anything's fine. I dunno- why did you become a Hunter?"

"Oh- well, necessity? I guess? When you can get the right jobs it's good money. I was kind of... born into it, either way."  
"Your parents are Hunters too?" Pidge didn't turn or try to face him, but she settled back a little bit, holding her mug just outside of the nest of fabric that was her cloak and blankets.   
"It's how they met. My mother was on a job, and my dad got caught up in it, and just... Ended up sticking with her."  
"Very romantic." She quipped back, and he huffed a laugh.

"I guess, if fighting mages and wrestling with demons is your idea of romantic." They were veering into dangerous territory. He didn't want her to ask where his parents were now; he didn't think he could come up with a believable lie so fast, and the truth would only depress her. "What are you going to Altea for?"

"How did you-" Pidge stared owlishly over her mug and he shrugged with a half smile.  
"I overheard your friend mention it."

"Damnit Lance," She muttered, taking another swig and clicking her tongue for a moment as she mulled her answer over.

"My brother is there. He's my best friend. He..." She tapped on the edges of her mug, staring down into it for a moment, then sighed and let her head fall back against the cushions behind her. "He has magic. Like my mother. Maybe even more than her, but we were always so close even so. Two summers ago we raised the coin to send him to Altea. He took an exam, and got a full scholarship to board and study magic there."

Keith raised his eyebrows. "He must be good; they don't hand those out to just anyone."  
"How do you know that?"  
"I hear things." He said evasively, and she shot him a look from the corner of her eye.  
"Of course you do. Well, he's been there nearly two years- he visited last summer. I'm worried though. We wrote to him, when my father passed. It was all too fast to bring him home, and... my mother didn't want him here, not while it's so dangerous... I saw my mother write those letters, and I know he replied, but now I can't find any of them. I have no idea what he said."  
"You think she put them somewhere safe?"

"Maybe?" Pidge picked a little at the cold meat on her lap. "I haven't completely gone through her room, I can't- but... I wrote to him too. When she got sick, and he never replied. So I'm going to go to Altea and I'm going to find him. He's... He's all I have left. That he's not written me... I'm scared something's happened. I'd have gone sooner but it's expensive just to get to Arus for the ferry docks."

"Maybe he's on his way back here, and writing would be a waste of time." Altea Capital was quite the journey, from here it was a few days' travel to Arus in the East and then a boat ride across the ocean, and there really would be no point writing when he'd probably get there at the same time as a letter. Keith hadn't been back in moons, though he'd been feeling the pull as of late. The desire to go somewhere almost like home for a little while. The gold from this job would have paid his fare home, he'd been thinking.

"Maybe. If he is, I hope we meet each other halfway. I nearly have enough to go- I could always offer to work in return for part of the journey..."

Keith tried to picture the faces of a crew being offered this gawky little wench as help labouring on a trip. He had no doubt she could pull her weight- he'd seen her carrying the traps, witnessed her unflinching face as he'd aimed an arrow at it. But she'd probably be laughed off the deck by strangers. 

"Pidge." He began, feeling a little shy. "After this... job... I was planning on going back to Altea. If you wanted company on the journey there..."  
"You think I need an escort?" Pidge scoffed, teasing, and he grinned back.  
"With your knife collection? No. But any journey is safer in groups. Plus... If you're short, I'll have the coin from the job and I can make up the difference."  
"You'd give me gold, just like that?" Pidge asked sharply, some of the colour returning to her face. "Don't be ridiculous, why would you do that? You have no reason to-"

"At least two nights of board in your house." Keith interrupted, holding up two fingers. "A bowl of rabbit stew and drinks to go with it. Half a -pretty big- meat pie." He carried on counting off on his fingers as he talked. "Valuable information that will lead to the completion of said job. I think I can safely part with a few gold coins in exchange for all of that.

"Plus, I happen to know a few people at the University- I've _been_ there, trained there. Maybe I've passed by your brother, even. I can take you straight there and you can find out where he is."  
Pidge was gaping at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes looked too bright. Please, don't let her start crying again. Keith wouldn't be able to handle it.

"Thank you." Tea forgotten and wobbling precariously where it was jammed into the sea of blankets, Pidge leaned over to take his free hand in hers. Pale pink, chapped thumbs traced the lines between his purple fingers, blunt nails ridiculously flat and white compared to his dark pointed ones. At some point despite trying not to they had ended up sitting closer together, knees bumping and her face was so close to his, he could see his own reflected in her eyes, shocked and flushed. "Thank you so much."

Keith opened his mouth, and closed it again. It would be so easy to close the space. Her hands were so warm, rough around the edges yet kind and earnest in the way she held him and it made something deep within him ache. He could close his hand around hers, return the gesture. He could offer the contact this lonely, proud little human obviously craved and it wasn't like he wouldn't find comfort in it himself.

He sat back and removed his hand from hers.

"Thank me when I dump the beast's head on the Chantry's steps tomorrow morning." Pidge's hands retreated into her cloak and she cocked her head at him.  
"You're going tonight?"  
"Sooner the better." He nodded. "I don't want to waste time. I'll rest up and prep today, and head out at sunset."

He chanced a glance at her; there were dried tracks on her face and concern in her eyes but she looked a little brighter, a little pinker in the cheeks.   
"Will you rest too? I thought I was going to have to find a doctor earlier."   
Her brow furrowed and mouth turned down as she started to argue, but then thought better of it.  
"I- OK. I am a little tired. You won't leave, without saying anything right?"

He shot her a toothy smile that made her crack a small one in return.  
"Of course. Go rest." 

"Here." Pidge pressed the remains of her half of the pie into his hands. "You'll need your strength. Thank you- for the tea, and for talking to me."  
"Least I can do." He grunted back, "it's fine."

"I..." Pidge paused, looking like she wanted to say something. "I- I'll see you later, OK?"  
And with that, she disappeared down the corridor in a swirl of red.

Keith stood up and stretched, cracked his knuckles. He needed to prepare. Outside the sun was high, but by late afternoon it would abandon them to the first full moon of the new year. A good night to hunt.

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith: I can't trust her, she might not be human  
> Pidge: -exists-  
> Keith: oh FUck protecc her.
> 
> Next time, he'll find out what the beast is.


	4. "Promise you'll do as I say."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline was starting to seep into his limbs, settling into his gut, the way it always did before he started a hunt. He was ready to sink his blade into this beast. He was ready for a bloodbath. Hoping for it, even. Anything to channel his extra energy into. He still didn't know exactly what this beast was, but there was a certain thrill to diving into the unknown like he would be doing tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I wanted to put some CWs on this chapter but didn't want to spoil things- it's such a fine line, but an SK writer on Twitter was talking about how they put detailed warnings in the Endnotes, and say so in the beginning notes so people can click down if they're worried, and I was like "aw man why didn't I think of that?"
> 
> So yeah- vague cw is there's some talk of bodily harm and threats that could potentially trigger DA survivors. I'll put a more detailed note in the end notes.

☆

The first full moon of the year is called the Wolf Moon. Somewhere there's irony in there, but Keith was never able to remember the definition of irony.  
  
His pack was rearranged and ready- only the most essential weapons and tricks on his person. The rest he'd leave at the house. His cloak was familiar in its weight, the matted thick fur hanging around his shoulders and neck like an old friend, protecting from the weather and sharp teeth alike. The mail under his tunic was light enough that it didn't impair his movement, but was sturdy and bound with protective magic, and the metal links didn't hurt either.   
He'd appreciated the borrowed clothes - really he had - but he'd felt naked without his armor, vulnerable and open. The thick straps and bracers felt like a second skin, knee guard moulded to fit him perfectly after years of wear.   
He folded the shirt and breeches carefully and laid them on the bottom of the bed. Perhaps when he finished tonight he might feel better wearing these again - his armor would most likely need a good scrub, and then he'd have travel plans to make.   
  
Bow, quiver, blade. All charged, all ready to go.   
  
Keith had figured Pidge wouldn't mind him dipping into some of the many ingredients around her kitchen; mixed properly he could create a potion to marinade his arrowheads in, so that when they made contact with their target they burned and sapped its strength. He'd also mixed a sweet tea to soothe his throat - he couldn't remember the last time he'd talked this much since he'd been out with Shiro. Travelling alone often introduced a tendency to talk to oneself, but this was on a completely different level.  
  
He would have asked - probably - but when he slipped through the open door to her room, Pidge had been fast asleep. Curled up like a small animal under blankets and patchwork furs and sheepskins she'd looked so small, frowning and fitful in her sleep. Even under the blankets, there was a flash of red- she was sleeping in the cloak. Not that he blamed her; the evening was cold. He'd lingered longer than he meant to, watching the end of a braid flutter by her nose as she breathed before pulling himself away to check on his gear.   
  
Blue was starting to bleed up into the yellow sky, the moon already high and stars beginning to shine overhead. Dusk. He'd better get going.   
  
Once more he ducked his head through the door to find Pidge's room still silent, the mass of blankets still piled up on the bed. He wasn't going to disturb her. There was no point waking her up now.  
  
He pressed his hand to the latch on the door to lower it manually, silently slipping the metal bolt into place with the smallest of clicks. The night was young but promised to be still, no breeze on his skin, the trees lit silver and bright with the light of the moon. It was also freezing.  
  
Adrenaline was starting to seep into his limbs, settling into his gut, the way it always did before he started a hunt. He was ready to sink his blade into this beast. He was ready for a bloodbath. Hoping for it, even. Anything to channel his extra energy into. He still didn't know exactly what this beast was, but there was a certain thrill to diving into the unknown like he would be doing tonight.  
  
He reached the treeline and a shadow cast itself from behind him. He whirled around to find Pidge, standing with limbs hidden in the cloak draped around her like a blood-red shroud. For a moment she didn't speak, standing like a little ghost in the middle of the path.  
  
"Going to leave without me?"  
"You were asleep, I-" Keith started, then nearly rolled his eyes. "I see. You stuffed your blankets."  
  
She didn't respond, only smiled at his deduction and took a step forward.  
"I'm coming too."  
"No. _No_." Keith shook his head. "That's not how this works. You're staying here."  
  
"I can help. I know these woods - all the best spots for hunting - where it might be lurking-"  
"You think this is the first time I've had to do a job in a location I don't know? I can handle myself--this isn't the same as you trapping little rabbits and birds, Pidge. This isn't a game."  
"Don't talk to me like I'm a child. I know the risks." She lifted her hands to part the cloak's opening and reveal a small crossbow cradled in her arms.  
  
"You're not. Coming." Keith spoke through gritted teeth. In response Pidge lifted the crossbow to point it towards him, bolt already loaded and he barked a derisive laugh, grinning wide with all his teeth on show.  
"You think pointing that toy at me will change my mind?" He jeered, lip curling as he drew himself up to his full height, easily a foot taller than her. "Or that I'm going to be intimidated by a little wench like you?"  
  
"Oh, you did _not_ just call me a-"   
"I'll tie you up." Keith interrupted with a low growl, taking a step closer and bearing down on her, casting her face in shadow from the moon behind him. "I'll carry you over my shoulder back to that fucking house and hog-tie you. Leave you there 'til I'm done with the job, and if that thing rips my head off you'll be left waiting until someone thinks to look for you."  
  
Pidge's poker face was spot-on, he had to give her that. She didn't move or back away - she only tilted her head a little to keep her eyes on his as he encroached on her space.  
"Try it." She scoffed, raising the tip of the crossbow towards his chin. "Touch me and I'll bite your fucking fingers off. I need this."  
  
"You might _think_ you need this, but that doesn't change my mind- it's killed groups of people and you think you'll be OK just because you're with me? I won't - I _can't_ be responsible for you out there." He gestured off towards the forest - even now, the beast was probably lurking, lying in wait or searching for its next kill. He wouldn't let it be her.  
  
"I'm not asking you to be!" Pidge shouted back, bow still pointed at him. "You know what it's taken from me- everything I've lost - I need to see it with my own eyes, I need to see it finished so when I finally find Matt I have something - _something good_ to bring him! I can't- sit in that house all night, waiting, listening and worrying about whether or not you're OK, you can't ask me to do that!"  
  
Keith spun on his heel, head tipping back to spit a curse at the sky in frustration.  
"Damnit, Pidge." He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, if you go out there it's my ass on the line. You get killed, that friend of yours tells people he saw me talking to you, I fucking _asked_ about you at the Chantry when they mentioned your father. If this thing kills you, they'll still pin it on the galra stranger in town - I'll go down for your stupidity."   
"Then I just won't get killed."  
  
"Easier said than done." He swallowed back the grotesque images filling his mind--memories of gore, red flesh and white bone and wet screams melting into images of Pidge and becoming some gross caricature he hoped weren't visions. "You're just going to do whatever you want tonight, aren't you?"  
"Yep," Pidge replied brightly, her smile wicked.  
  
Keith huffed again. Really he should stop her- knock her out or subdue her some other way, or simply carry her into the village kicking and screaming if it meant her safety. Time was ticking on. The best hours of the night were rolling by without him. He needed this done and without trying to shake a determined human.  
  
"What about earlier? You seemed sick."  
"I'm fine now. I don't know what you put in that tea but I slept for the first time in weeks. I did some thinking though. Thinking about my father, and this thing. It's hurt so many people, yet I've been walking around in here and never come across it. Nobody else has gone in and come back out, except me." Her tone was rising, and he eyed the crossbow pointing up under his chin. "I need to see it. I need to see the thing that took everything I've ever known from me. You can't stop me."  
  
"You know what? Fine. But you need to promise me if you're coming you'll do as I say. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you find somewhere and you hole up until I come get you- and if I don't come for you, you stay where you are until light."  
"Yes. Yes, of course." She stood up straighter, crossbow finally lowering as she nodded, resolute.  
"I mean it." He said and waved tiredly at the bow. "You know how to use that thing?"  
  
"It was built for me. My father and I made it." Pidge said, tone clipped as one hand traced the stock. "I could easily match your little trick with the rabbits last night."  
"Here." He reached for it, checking the length of the bolts and then fished out his own quiver and one of his smaller knives. With quick cuts he removed a portion from the end of one of his arrows, stripping the vanes so it matched her bolts. "Try firing that."  
It was lighter than the steel-tipped bolts in her pack, but it fit in the flight groove and with a satisfying crack the modified arrow fired smoothly and embedded itself square in the knot of a nearby tree. Keith nodded and started stripping more arrows in the same manner.  
  
"They're steeped with magic; they'll burn and irritate anything they hit. Remember this isn't an animal that'll run - it'll fight back but I'll be drawing its attention. We find that thing, I want you to stay back - use the trees as cover, fire these at it and _don't_ hit me."  
Pidge nodded as she loaded the bundle into her quiver. "I won't. I'm a good shot."   
"Your life is counting on that." He warned her. "And lose that ridiculous cloak. You're like a beacon out here tonight."  
  
For the first time that night, Pidge looked unsure, one hand clasping at the ties around her neck.   
"What? No, no this was my mother's, and hers before that. It's supposed to protect me. It's never impeded my hunting before, or theirs."   
"It won't protect you tonight. Not from teeth and claws - it's just something that will drag you down, give the beast something to hold onto. Take it off or you're not coming. I won't bring out a target, especially not one that looks like a giant strawberry." At the word 'strawberry' he half wondered if she'd raise the crossbow again.  
  
"I feel safer in it. Plus it's cold out tonight." Pidge retorted, but Keith stood his ground.   
"Off. Now."  
Pidge stared him down for a moment and then sighed, lowering her head as she undid the cloak and folded it over her arms. She cast him one last glance, full of hurt more than anything, and tucked the balled up fabric under the base of a tree. With her back turned Keith unstrapped his mantle.   
She was wearing her gloves again, and a doublet of cured hides tied over a thick shirt, thank the Creators for small mercies, with two knives strapped to her belt. She'd be safer with something over her shoulders.   
  
"Here." He swung the collar around her, fixing the straps under her arms and securing the metal clasp at her throat.   
"Isn't this a little redundant? Swapping one cloak for another? And what will you wear?"   
This time Keith did roll his eyes as he tugged on the strap.   
"This is shorter. Thicker, and this-" He made a curled clawing motion with his hand and then grabbed at the fur around the neck. "-will protect your jugular. You'll need it more than me. Now come, we've wasted enough time."  
  
He took off walking into the night, listening out for sounds other than Pidge's little gasp and boots trotting to catch up. It was his turn to lead them through this forest.   
  
She matched his pace easily, crossbow held across her chest pointing away from them both.  
"So your plan is to march in here with a bow and a knife?" She murmured as they turned down a trail. "Because seven people tried that and they all got disembowelled for their efforts."  
"Look - no offense, to them - but like I've said. I'm trained for this. I'll know where it is before we get in attacking distance. You do as I say, we'll be fine." Keith said, keeping his voice low; it was the only sound in the woods.

  
"And if we're not fine?" came Pidge's reply, so soft he barely heard it. He turned his head to look at her, to meet her frowning gaze; she had to know how serious he was.   
"If it looks like it's getting the upper hand, you run. Don't stick around for the finale - I don't want you to see that. You run, grab your stuff, get to Arus and on the first ferry to Altea. Go to the University, tell them I sent you. Ask for Shiro and Allura. They'll take care of you, help you find your brother. They'll know last rites and shit, too."  
Pidge had been staring at him, lips slightly parted, but then she shut them and nodded and he faced forward again.   
  
"Are you religious, Keith?" she asked a few moments later.  
"Hell no." he snorted. "But the Marmoran Guild keeps a record of fallen hunters. I just want my name in there with my dad."  
  
There was a little shuddering breath next to him, but she didn't respond and they continued in silence.  
  
  
Somewhere in this forest, the beast was definitely lurking. There were trails of leftover magic, like netting crisscrossing and entwining paths with each other as it had roamed freely, making this place its home. Like the story of the Labyrinth and the horned beast within, he just needed to find the intangible string that would lead him to his goal.  
  
Keith stopped at a tree, laying a hand against the bark and closing his eyes for a second to concentrate. They were getting deeper now - they'd have to come across the thing sooner or later, but a sign would be nice, he thought bitterly.  
  
Pidge was alternating between watching him and scanning their surroundings when he opened one eye. He jerked a thumb over his left shoulder.   
"This way." He whispered.  
She frowned but followed his gesture, falling into step beside him.  
"Most magical beings will leave some sort of trail. I can pick up on it, but you can still look for tracks and other physical signs - it has a body after all."  
"Do you need magic sensitivity to hunt? Or can anyone do it?"  
He glanced at her - she was scouring the forest floor as suggested - the earth and trails lit up a gunmetal silver-brown in the moonlight. "You thinking of a career change?"  
"Just wondering. Hunting game isn't exactly a challenge."  
"Mm. It's not impossible without - there's been good hunters who lack magic - but it definitely makes it easier. Though, I'm still not sure what's going on with you. The university might have some answers. I'm not _as_ experienced at recognizing the specific kinds of magic."  
"You still sniffing at me over this magic thing?"  
"I wasn't _sniffing._ " He hissed back, offended. "But there's something weird about you, and-"  
  
"There!" Pidge flung out an arm in front of him and pointed down to the ground. Right on the edge of the trail where stamped-down earth met loose undergrowth a large, indented paw print was partially obscured in the dark.  
"Good eye." He mumbled, and knelt for a better look. The space between the claws matched what he'd seen in the tree earlier. It was bigger than your regular wolf, perhaps bear-sized, but the foot shape was different- far too slim, toes too large in proportion.   
  
It wasn't fresh, but it wasn't old either. They were closing in on its space. Keith looked up, scanning for anything else- more tracks, bent flora or scattered earth that might indicate a direction to go in next. A trace of magic hummed to him and he spotted another dark hollow in the dirt, a second print. As he swung one leg in front of him to sort of half-squat, half-crawl towards it, Pidge looked the opposite way and whispered, "more prints, there."  
He crawled back onto the trail to inspect his find as Pidge stepped further away into the undergrowth.  
  
"Hey, don't go too far," Keith muttered to her, and squinted down at the print. That wasn't right. He blinked and looked again.  
This wasn't animal or magical beast; it was long and slender, curved with five toes along the top. It looked _human_.   
  
A human wouldn't be wandering these woods barefoot in winter, surely?  
  
A chill ran up his spine, his nervous breath rising in a stuttering cloud as he traced the outer edge of the print. It was small, smaller than his feet and more delicate. A child perhaps? Had some foolish teenagers dared each other to venture into the forest at night? This was bad, this was very bad. If there was someone out here tonight they were in very real danger.  
  
"Pidge, we got a situation -" He looked over his shoulder, twisting so he could catch her eye, and stopped.  
There was nothing but dark silhouettes of trees behind him, shafts of moonlight making the stones on the trail glitter.  
  
"Pidge?"   
Keith stood up slowly, listening. She was _just_ here. She'd just been stood next to him. She'd seen more tracks, in the underwood?  
Every fibre of his being willed him to call out, to whisper her name even, but he couldn't. Not so deep in the forest and on the tail of a beast. He whirled around, spinning full circle hoping to land a glimpse of auburn braids tied back and piled on top of each other, of a flash of the crossbow's metal plating. Something. Anything.  
  
There wasn't a sound. Not a footstep, not the snap of a twig, not a breath. Just him and the hammering of his pulse in his ears.  
  
He was alone.   
  
  
  
☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Keith is intentionally intimidating and gets in her space, threatens to bodily manhandle Pidge, tie her up and leave her alone and restrained in her own house in an attempt to frighten her. she, in turn, threatens to bite his fingers off. The OG argument was a lot tamer but it ended up like that, and it did strike me as someone who's been in similar situations, that it could be upsetting.  
> There's also some descriptions of blood and gore- Keith imagining what could happen to Pidge if the beast finds her, and Pidge alluding to the state she found her father in.
> 
> Keith's all alone in the forest, and the strange girl he took with him is nowhere to be seen.


	5. "Do you always have to make everything so difficult?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's alone in the woods, and has to decide which quarry to pursue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I broke chapter 4 earlier than intended, so this will be short, like 1k?  
> 3k later...  
> "Oh."
> 
> (this is kind of like chapter 4 part2, this was where I intended it to end but the length got away from me and I don't really like long chapters. I tend to either get bored when a chapter is 10k of text, or run out of time to finish the chapter in my free breaks, and get confused)

☆ 

Shit. Shit, shit shit.  
  
"Come on, Pidge." Any minute now, she'd come crashing back through the trees and demand he come look at something.   
  
Any second. Please.  
  
His chest felt tight, his head was spinning as he kept twisting it this way and that. She'd completely vanished. There were more tracks in the brush, but they seemed to stop dead after a few feet. Where the hell had she gone?  
  
Fuck. fuck, fuck fuck.  
  
He'd messed up badly. He'd brought an untrained, unprepared human on a hunt - a girl barely out of her teens - and not only that but he hadn't kept an eye on her. It was as if she'd melted, or just spirited away into the night. There was no trail, no...  
  
He could follow her trail, right? That heady, thick energy that had plagued his senses since he met her. It would be so easy to just pick that up.  
  
Except, he couldn't. Even as he closed his eyes, fists clenched as he tried to steady his breathing, there was nothing. The odd scents lingered where she might have passed by days ago to collect traps, but where was that fresh, overwhelming sensation that made his bones vibrate?  
  
Come to think of it, where had it been all night? He should have felt her coming long before she'd jumped him out by her house. Instead, she'd managed to slither silently up and persuade him to let her come. He'd been so focused on the hunt and on locating the wolf he hadn't even realised. Magic didn't just disappear, not like she'd been doused in water and rinsed clean of it. You didn't just turn it off. Like blowing a candle out, a trail of smoke would linger and the smell of burning and wax would remain.  
  
"What the hell is going on with you?" He whispered to himself.  
  
  
Alright. Priorities. There were possibly three entities in the forest tonight- Pidge and the wolf were certainties. The Owner of the Mysterious Footprint was an unknown--they might still be in here somewhere, they might not. He might already be too late for them - too late for Pidge - stop-  
  
He'd find her. His best bet was to stay on track of the wolf. If he had a location on it he'd at least know Pidge wasn't being eaten or ripped apart, or-  
  
He shook his head. Stop worrying about a girl he only met twenty-four hours ago! She'd said herself, many _many_ times in said twenty-four hours, how well she knows the terrain. That she'd been coming and going freely for years. Stop fretting and get moving!   
  
The tracks Pidge had found seemed to be the right ones to follow - animal-shaped, sort-of fresh, and there was half a small boot print freshly smeared in the mud close by; she'd definitely come this way to look before her little disappearing act.  
  
A few feet on, as he picked his way through the brush he came across a drop in the dirt; their path had been taking them along the top of a steep but shallow hillock.  
  
'Came across' might not be the correct term; the tip of his boot had touched nothing and curled downwards, he'd teetered on the edge for a moment before managing to pull back. Successfully swallowing his yell, he peered down it. Had she slipped, fallen down?   
  
He'd have heard it. The slide of rocks and debris and the heavy thump of a body on hard dirt. Nothing had reached his ears, and nothing was moving down there.   
  
Planting his feet wide and crouching low he slid down the hill, boots catching on stones and loosening them to tumble down with him. As he hit the new floor level he reached behind him and drew his blade. It was far colder down here. And of course, he'd given away his cloak.   
  
Now he didn't have any sounds to accompany him. Not a second set of boots, quiet breathing or even the odd softly spoken question and it was making him uneasy. This was how he normally hunted - alone - but now he'd had that accompaniment it somehow left the forest even more silent without it.  
  
Instincts told him to head further south, even deeper from where they'd come. He kept his knife out in front of him, the blade gleaming opal in the dark, straining his ears and eyes alike for any sort of movement or clue. As he crept along his new trail, his boot nudged against something. Crouching down, he patted the ground until his fingertips met polished wood. He lifted the object up and his stomach dropped down like a weighted scale.   
  
The little crossbow. Hand-carved to fit a small grip, runes and vines etched down the sides and limbs to border depictions of running animals- hares, foxes, something like a mountain lion. Brushstrokes from the waterproofing sealant worn smooth over time. The sling was sewn by hand and softened with use, the leather pliable in his hands.   
  
It was beautiful, expertly made. And definitely Pidge's.  
  
His grip was too tight on the wood - any harder and he'd crack it. Back when it had been in her hands he hadn't really made the time to look at it, and his heart sank as he traced the grooves made by a parent and child in their workshop. He hooked his wrist through the sling and let it hang from his hand.   
  
"Fuck." He whispered.  
  
Pros: he was going the right way for at least one of his quarries. He was also now up one weapon and some ammunition.  
Cons: Pidge, wherever she was, was down a weapon. People didn't usually just drop their treasured possessions. If she met with the wolf first she'd need all the help she could get. And other than this clue, he still had no real idea where she was. Why hadn't he _heard_ anything? What could have made her silently leave her crossbow behind?  
  
  
It was true, he wasn't religious but he still sent a prayer out in case the Creators, or something - _anything_ \- good was really listening out there - please let her have hidden somewhere, crawled into a hollow and tucked herself away until dawn came for her. The trees were certainly getting big enough to fit a stowaway, but Pidge didn't seem the hiding type. He gripped the handle of his blade tight and grit his teeth. Keep moving, keep following the traces of magic drifting on the air like loose cobwebs. He had to be close now.

A snapping sound ahead of him - echoing sharply through the trees and a cut-off shriek pierced his ears. The blood drained from his face and he took off, running towards the sound with the little crossbow aimed straight at his path. 

Keith burst into the clearing, ready to fire and something twitching caught his eye. A flash of auburn - no -

The shadowy little bundle shuddered again and Keith swallowed. Glanced either side of him - there was no other sound or movement around him. Crossbow still clutched and finger on the trigger he stepped closer and knelt by the now motionless red shape. 

A fox. Already dead. The trap it was caught in had ended it quickly, at least. The red gleam of its fur shimmered as a breeze caught it. Fuck, it was the same rust shade of Pidge's hair.

With that gentle breeze, the smell of her hit his nose in near full force. Her hands on the mechanisms, wiping sweat from a brow as she'd worked and left traces all over this clearing. This was one of her hunting grounds, and -as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, possibly something else's now, too. 

He wasn't alone. He couldn't shake the feeling that, like the little red creature that had met its end in a trap, he was being lured into one too. It was _too_ quiet, the night _too_ still. 

All his doubts started to race each other across his mind. All the accusations his thoughts had mustered. That she was a bandit. A secret mage. Some sort of spirit. A desire demon.   
Maybe he'd been right, the magic in this forest had taken root in her heart, clouded her mind and had sung her away from his side like a siren. There had to be _some_ explanation-

Something was moving. A shadow was slipping along the edge of the clearing. Keith kept low to the ground by the trap, peering past the trees towards the large dark shape. Four-legged, not human. Too bulky to be a deer. Too long and too early in the year to be a bear. Its feet made barely a sound as it picked through the brush and Keith held his breath.  
The little crossbow was in his hand, but he didn't let his grip twitch even for a second. He had a clear shot, but couldn't take it yet. It had the upper hand - it had the options of turning into the clearing where he was wide open for attack, or disappearing into the trees where it had plenty of cover and he'd have to give chase. 

The beast stopped in its tracks, and Keith sank further down until his cheek was brushing against the dead fox. The beast's large, shadowy head was turning, large lamp-like eyes focusing towards him, bright and eerie yellow. The muzzle twisted and a low rumbling growl began to rise from it. 

Caught.

It slunk closer to the tree line, towards him, head lowered even as the growling deepened. Something was caught on it - hanging from one of its front legs, adding to its bulk.  
Moonlight bled over the beast's legs and head as it broached the clearing and he realised as it coiled back to pounce - his cloak. The fastening gleamed uselessly through the fur collar that dragged along the ground, dark and wet and coming looser with every step.

" _Pidge-_ " He gasped. 

No. He was too late. For all those times she professed to be such a good hunter, it must have caught her from behind. Silent. Hopefully quick. 

It launched itself at him, and in one swift motion he rolled to the side, brought the crossbow up and fired.  
The creature seemed to falter in its attack- from the sound of the weapon, or his shout? The arrow hit its mark, sinking into the crease between the beast's shoulder and chest and it yelped at the impact, skidding awkwardly to the floor and pawing at the poisonous, broken shaft lodged in its flesh. Keith was immediately on his feet, bow raised and ready to fire again. 

Blood was shining down its leg, dark against the russet fur that turned lighter from the shoulders down. It wasn't quite wolf-like, but it also wasn't any earthly creature he'd ever seen, he thought as it began to circle him, arrow injury disregarded for the moment. The paws were distinctly cat-like, and though the ears were pricked up and tufted like a canine, he was reminded more of the mountain lions carved into the crossbow, with its swishing tail and sandy underside. 

His next shot missed as the beast twisted to the other side, spinning on the spot and lunging again, using its good shoulder to barrel into him before he could react and knock him back.

His neck protested as he was sent tumbling head over heels, the crossbow skittering across the forest floor. He managed to dig his fingers and plant his boots down into the earth beneath him, stopping his fall and using his hands and feet to push off, brandishing his blade as he charged the beast.   
Though he aimed for the neck it seemed to predict his intentions, lowering its head again and almost effortlessly using it to bowl him off to the side.

This time he stayed on the ground, crouching low, watching it pace this way and that, agitated. The one shoulder he'd hit seemed to tremble a little - the magic was working - the other was still caught up in his cloak. Its strength was a problem, he needed to be smarter, he needed to be ready for an attack.

He darted forwards, unhooking a smaller knife from his belt and as it readied itself to beat him off again, he ducked left, rolling under its head and stabbing the knife through his cloak. The beast made to follow but was caught by the fabric, its leg pulling away from under it and causing it to stumble.

Keith had planted himself in front of a tree, his own bow in hand and he raised it to aim for another soft spot. The creature was tugging at the cloak, rolling in the dirt like some sort of scared dog. What was it _doing_? He'd heard tales of pure carnage, of grown men being ripped to pieces by a beast that was blasé enough to just round up a hunting party and pick them off for entertainment. While he hadn't been 100% sure what he was up against, a pup with its tail between its legs was certainly not it. 

The clasp on his hood finally snapped, freeing the beast and it staggered back. He fired again and this time it swatted the arrow from the air with its now free paw. Keith bared his teeth in a grin. _That_ was what he'd been expecting. It leapt at him again and he ducked, letting it rebound off the tree behind him, springing easily from the bark with a snap of wood to land in the centre of the clearing.

"Come on, you bastard..." He taunted under his breath, watching its ears prick forward at the sound. "...Don't you want to come take a chunk out of me?"  
  
The snarl that tore from its throat rattled the forest floor around it but he stayed on track, feinting with his blade, testing for an opening. Shadows cast by the tall trees threw it in and out of sharp relief - one second he'd be able to see the crest of fur down its spine swaying as it moved, the next it would be swallowed by darkness again. 

Once more he attacked, aiming for the soft, shaggy-haired neck but it was ready for him once more and knocked him flat on his back, stones skidding underneath him and catching on the back of his head.   
The moon was blotted out as it towered over him, paws stopping level with his ankles. He scrambled backwards, but it didn't move. It just stood, watching him almost petulantly with large, yellow... _familiar_ eyes.

Keith glanced to the crumpled, blood-sprayed fabric of his cloak. Thought of the abandoned crossbow - the lone petite human footprint - the peculiar ebb and flow of magic - her strange, unflinching manner - _'_ _Nobody else has gone in and come back out, except me-'_

Those same golden eyes that had stared him down again and again whenever she wanted her own way.

"Pidge?"

☆

Fuck. _Fuck._ All this time. All that searching and the answer had been right in front of him. How could he be so stupid? So blind? Lesson number one when dealing with the supernatural: always suspect the weird loner living on the edge of the town. He couldn't believe he'd let a girl lure him in and get him on his ass under a beast.

And now she was going to kill him, or he'd have to kill her. 

She still wasn't moving. Those eyes were still trained on him and though she huffed through a long, furred nose she didn't attack, didn't lunge for his throat. Didn't even take a step.  
"Pidge..." He said again, slowly sliding his hand out from where it had propped him up, feeling for the hilt of his blade. The beast lowered her head, ears flat back, and _whined._

His hand stopped dead in its probing. He stared as she whined again, stepping back and shrinking down.  
A strange sadness welled up inside him. He'd seen people consumed by magic before, turned into twisted monsters that did abhorrent things. And each time he'd struck them down. He'd had to, for their own sake as well as everyone else's. He'd have to do the same here.   
  
She was stronger than him. Bigger than him at the moment, and he still had no solid lead on what kind of magic this was to try and undo it, to change her back. He lacked the skill.

Even if he could, he'd have to present her to the village - _here's your demon, your blood-thirsty murderer, this tiny slip of a girl you've known since she was in swaddling._ His only other option if she changed back would be to kill her here, overpower her and cut her throat quick.   
  
"Do you always have to make everything so difficult?" His laugh was despairing, almost angry as he reached for his blade.

The beast's whine lowered, rumbling into a growl and he tightened his grip on the blade, narrowing his eyes. He shifted his feet into a better position and she sank into a crouch. 

"Pidge..." He repeated her name in warning, but her response was to curl her lip back to reveal shining white fangs, more than capable of tearing through flesh. 

She sprang. Keith lifted his blade in a defensive position, readying himself for the impact... That never came. A mess of fur and legs soared straight over him, past him, at something else. 

There was a heavy thud and a grunt - someone yelling and in his dazed state he almost didn't think to get back to his feet. He hastened back into the trees where the beast had someone pinned- glimpses of armored legs underneath her tail and the flash of a blade clamped in the beast's jaw, the only barrier keeping her back from tearing into whoever was underneath. 

A burst of magic, and with a feat of strength that was impressive they heaved the beast off of them, grunting "Now!"   
Another figure seemed to leap from out of nowhere, swathes of fabric streaming around them as they landed on top of the stunned beast, but Keith was fixated on the figure before him getting to his feet. He knew that shock of white hair anywhere. 

"Shiro?" He managed to choke out.   
"Keith," Shiro stood up to his full height, panting, quickly checking his blade for damage. "I'm so glad we caught up to you - come on, we need to help him."   
He turned back to the beast and Keith followed. Its head was caught in something red, Keith recognized the stitching and patterns in the fabric - the other figure somehow had Pidge's cloak and had managed to throw it over the beast's head, clinging on to her struggling shoulders as the throes and howls started to lessen in their intensity.

The bundle seemed to shrink even as the pained whines rang in Keith's ears and he could only stare as eventually it quieted and stopped moving, and the stranger staggered back, planting hands on their knees to catch their breath.

They straightened up and turned back to them, and Keith knew instantly who it must be. Thick locks of auburn hair were escaping from its tie, curling around an angular face set with intelligent, honey-coloured eyes. 

"Well _that_ was terrifying, don't ever ask me to consider hunting as a profession. You must be Keith; I'm Matthew Holt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think Shiro wouldn't eventually make an appearance, right?  
> And hopefully Matt has a bunch of answers to all the current questions and the new ones his appearance creates.  
> (I have plans for all the paladins)
> 
> NOW I can share the fanart I've been doing bc it had spoilers! I have a bigger, gorgeous full piece that was supposed to be for a project, but I don't think I'm allowed to submit it to the project anymore so I'll probably end up posting it online and doing prints <3
> 
> https://twitter.com/SylenisArts/status/1216153630627319809?s=20  
> https://twitter.com/SylenisArts/status/1216510550013882368?s=20


	6. "You knew."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Matt Matt Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for blood and wound tendings yay.

☆ _  
  
A letter addressed to Colleen Holt, of the village in Olkari. It was sealed with runic magic._

_Mother,_   
_As I write this letter, I'm watching the trees through the window above my desk- they're starting to turn gold and red, and the sun between them makes for a beautiful sight. You were right. Travelling, attending the University, I'm seeing parts of the land I thought I never would, meeting all kinds of people and I wish I could show you too. I'm learning so much here, and not just from my schooling._

_You're probably wondering why this letter has been sealed. In my studies I have come across information that I_ **_must_ ** _ask you about, and I cannot risk this letter being seen by anyone but you. I know you will have recognized how to open it._

_This summer I started to learn about Runic Magic. I felt comforted by them, after growing up surrounded by them I found just reading the first chapter on the basics to be like a balm for my homesickness._   
_I learned about the love that is put into protection spells, that the need to protect must be present, or they will not work. I thought of you and felt so happy._

_Then I learned more, and read more, and there were still spells that eluded me. I have so many memories of sitting on your lap, being read to or simply held, and in those memories, I would trace the band on your wrist, runes carved into the wood and worn smooth from fingers poking into the grooves._   
_None of these runes, so familiar to me, showed up in any of the basic books or lessons I took. I'm not sure why I remembered them so well, or why I felt the need to translate them, but I did. And I found them._   
_First I read that they were a spell for dampening magic, to keep it asleep, in a way. I was baffled. Why would you wear those on your arm? And how could you wear them and still light a fire with a flick of your wrist, and make flowers turn to face you with a gesture and a few words?_

_My studies brought me to another kind of magic, a kind that these runes are specifically written to nullify._   
_Mother, the runes worn upon your wrist are placed to dampen Transformation Magic._

_A rare magic that cannot be learned, only inherited. At first, I thought perhaps you also didn't know what they meant--after all, it took me a few weeks to find the meanings, and that's with entire libraries at my disposal. But you would never risk wearing an unknown spell, no matter how pretty the trinket. You are far too logical, too clever to risk that. Yet I have no memory of you ever being without it._   
_On stormy nights as a child I would crawl into bed with you, and feel the wood on my back as you soothed me to sleep. You would push it up to your elbow as you tried to bathe a fighting, thrashing Katie while I stood by with the towel ready to catch her and dry her off._

_You know what those runes are, and you wear them for a reason._   
_I feel like in this letter I have talked about being small more than I've ever done before, but I am not a child anymore. I am grown, and I am asking you, as your son who loves you and would understand, what you are. What you have been hiding from us._

_If I thought I could forget about this and go on with my life, I would never bring this to you, I would leave it well alone and not risk embarrassing or hurting you. But something about this- the rarity of transformation magic, the nature of which it is passed from Magi to Magi, I must ask you, for myself as much as for the opportunity to attain more knowledge._

_Know that I love you, and send on my love to father and Katie too,_

_Matthew._  
  
  
☆  
  
 _A fragment of a letter addressed to Matthew Holt, dormitory 43 in the South wing of Altea University. It has been written in a Runic Code._

_Matthew,_

_I wonder if there is much point writing to you with my answer. You have always been intelligent and resourceful and I do not doubt that in the time it has taken me to receive and respond to your last letter, that you will have figured it out. I think you already knew before you sent the first, but you were afraid to ask._

_You are correct that I have kept something from you and your sister, out of the love I hold for you both. You are also correct about transformation magic being passed through bloodlines. The truth is -  
  
_

_ (the rest of the letter has been destroyed)   
  
_

☆  
  
  
Keith stared at the young man in front of him and back to Shiro. He seemed unharmed even for being pinned underneath a beast nearly as big as himself. Stubble grazed his jawline and shadows lined his eyes- they'd been travelling for a few days, that much was obvious.  
  
Matthew Holt crouched down by the red bundle, gently pulling at a hem until messy auburn hair became visible, and then the human face of his sister, pale and unconscious.  
  
"What the fuck? What the _fuck_?" A third voice wobbled out from behind a tree, and Keith whipped around to peer in the direction.  
"Lance, she's hurt," Matthew called back, seemingly unalarmed by the sight in front of him, "Can you come help me?"  
  
Lance? Just how many people were running around in this forest tonight?   
  
"That- that was a _monster._ " Lance poked his head from behind a tree, face ashen even as he staggered towards Matthew. "I saw it, it was _huge,_ and hairy, and-and now it's Pidge under there? What the hell is going on?"   
  
Just what Keith would like to know. Matthew was easing the cloak back over one side of Pidge's bare neck, tucking it around the rest of her to protect her dignity, but baring the spot a little under her collarbone, just above the crease of her underarm where the tip of the bolt pierced her skin. Blood was crusting already, the skin darkening and smelling foul.  
  
Matthew caught Keith leaning forward to look, and glared at him. "Stay back, you're not touching her."   
His eyes flicked down, to the blade in Keith's hand, and he remembered he was still holding it as if ready for an attack. He sheathed his knife and raised his hands in surrender, but Matthew continued to glower at him, crouched protectively over the cloaked form on the ground. Lance was digging in a bag, pulling out scissors and bottled water.  
"You're lucky Madonna is in calf early this year and I had the bag ready to go." He was mumbling to anyone who would listen, fumbling with tools meant for assisting with veterinary practices.  
  
"Matt," Shiro spoke next to Keith, stepping forward, "It's alright, you can trust him."  
Matt glanced to Shiro, and then back to Keith, who still stood with his hands in the air. He didn't relent or even move.  
"Shiro says you're good people, but you can understand I'm worried. I know what this looks like."  
  
"Oh, and what _does_ this look like?" Keith retorted, but Matthew had gone back to probing gently at Pidge's wound.   
"This needs to come out. Don't touch it Lance- there's magic on it, and it'll burn you too." Lance had a silver tool in hand from his pack and was using it to start easing the bolt out.   
"Get one of the pads from my bag to put over the wound- when this comes out it's going to bleed like a bitch."  
  
"It _looks,_ " Keith raised his voice, making Lance flinch, "like you knew. You don't seem surprised at all. Whatever magic this is, you know about it. You _knew_ what she was."  
"I didn't." Matt looked back up, mouth set in a hard line and his eyes flashing dangerously. They were darker than Pidge's, but still strikingly similar. "I promise you, I had no idea until very recently."   
  
The bolt came out with a grunt from Lance - Pidge didn't even twitch, but Matt broke eye contact with Keith to press a soft pad to the area as blood bubbled up and gushed from the wound. Lance started adding salt and other powders into one of the bottles of water, shaking it up.  
"It's true," Shiro said, and touched Keith's shoulder to turn him towards him, "Matt came to me when he found out, and we set off as soon as we could, once we knew that-"  
"It's dangerous to talk out here." Matt barked, interrupting Shiro. "But we ran into Lance on our way through the village, and _he_ told us about the Hunter that had been sniffing around my sister, and she wasn't at home so we knew we had to get here fast."  
  
"I wasn't sniffing!" Keith snapped back, even as Shiro squeezed his shoulder in a comforting gesture.  
"Look, I was just worried about Pidge-" Lance protested, passing the bottle to Matt and raising his hands similarly to Keith. "I didn't want any trouble with you, but when Matt looked so panicked, I had to come too."  
"And there was no time to try and stop him." Shiro said with a dark chuckle.  
  
Matt removed the pad from the wound; it was still bleeding sluggishly. He tilted the bottle to let a small of water flush it out and Pidge began to stir, a low whine stuttering in her throat. Lance's hands were on her shoulder, holding it steady and Matt stroked her hair out of her pallid face, shushing to her gently.  
"Look, I'll tell you two everything Shiro and I know if you'll just help me get her back home where it's safer. She's small but I'll need help carrying her."  
  
"Matt is right, Keith. It's dangerous to be out tonight. We need to get indoors. Are you with me?"  
Keith looked up into the face of one of his oldest friends - his mentor, a man he loved dearly and would trust with his life. He'd taken Keith in, vouched for him and taught him everything he knew. Of course he trusted Shiro, but the danger was right _there,_ wrapped in a red cloak and hiding beneath a pretty face. The beast had killed people in the village, slaughtered them mercilessly, and yet, he couldn't help but feel she'd recognized him- or at the very least recognized her name on his lips.   
  
  
If it was true - if she was the monster, she was responsible for the death of Matthew's father, and here he was tending her wounds, no trace of revulsion or anger in the worried lines on his brow.   
"Shiro, of course I trust you-" Keith murmured in a low voice, "-But I'm not sure about-"  
  
"Pidge-?"  
Both Keith and Shiro whipped around to see the bundle stirring, Matthew sitting back on his knees and Lance shuffling back out of her way. Pidge looked bleary as she tried to sit herself up on wobbling arms, tangled in her cloak and looking more than a little bewildered.  
"Keith?" She mumbled in the direction of her brother, and Keith felt his face grow warm as Shiro shot him a look that was at least partly amused. Finally, her eyes seemed to focus in the dark and she gasped, "Matt?!"  
  
Her sob of relief quickly turned into confusion as her gaze landed on Keith and Shiro, and then at her state of undress. Matt made a hand gesture to usher them back and Shiro moved a few steps further into the trees. Taller than most human men, broad and battle-scarred with hair streaked white belying his young age, he was quite the intimidating presence when one woke up confused and naked.  
  
Keith didn't move. He stood his ground as Pidge tucked her cloak closer around herself, breaths coming in frightened little pants and then another gasp and yelp as she caught the shoulder he'd wounded. This was not the face of a girl who knew her guilt and was afraid now she was caught. She was terrified and confused and clearly had no idea what had happened. He caught her eye and she looked even more upset at the sombre look on his face. He tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it wouldn't come. He stepped back in line with Shiro.   
  
The Hunter's metal hand was on the hilt of the sword on his belt. Ah, so he wasn't completely at ease either. His gaze was trained on Matthew, trying to calm and talk to his sister.   
"New protégé of yours?" Keith asked in a low voice.   
"Hmn, not in the sense that you were. He's a good student, very skilled. And... A night owl who frequents the library."   
  
Keith nodded. Shiro didn't sleep. Not often, and when the Training Halls were closed he would often retreat to one of the large library wings, disappear into the many pages kept there. It was quiet in the library, safe. The biggest danger was a silly student attempting a spell above their grade, or a couple using the relative privacy to sneak off together.   
"Why? Jealous?" Shiro's lip twitched, though his eyes never left the siblings ahead of them.  
"Just..." Keith looked at Pidge, lip wobbling and shrinking further into her cloak as Matthew spoke to her in a soft voice he could only just make out. "Uneasy. This is strange."   
"I'm with you there. But we'll get them indoors and then we can talk-"   
  
A wail hit Keith's ears, making them almost vibrate with the echoing pitch. Pidge was screaming, sobbing hysterically. Matthew was leaning forward but she jerked back as if his touch would burn, shrieking, "You're wrong, _you're wrong_!"   
"Pigeon- Katie, please listen-"  
"No, _no,_ I couldn't- I'd never - _don't touch me_!"  
  
"She's gonna run-" Shiro started forward as Pidge stumbled back, cloak loose around her shoulders and Matthew tried to catch her.   
Keith swore as she staggered around and took off towards the forest, away from the direction of the village. All four men sprinted after her, Matthew pleading with her to stop as he ran, but she was darting over undergrowth and loose earth faster than he'd ever seen her. The red cloak billowed out behind her, coming loose and eventually snapping free. The long thin silhouette of Pidge was gone; in its place a sorrel beast loped on four paws, twisting and dodging between trees and slipping further ahead with every step.  
  
Keith and Shiro pulled ahead of the other two, but the tail was starting to disappear into the distance. He pushed off from a tree in his path, trying to put on a last burst of speed but he couldn't see her anymore, couldn't hear her. The trees were getting in his way, forcing him to keep turning and stuttering his steps. He couldn't keep up his speed anymore, the adrenaline had been keeping him going, but now his neck was protesting, his back aching from being flung across the rocky floor earlier.  
"Keith-" Shiro was slowing down too, "Keith she's too far ahead- we need to stop."  
"We have to catch her-"  
"We have to regroup. You're hurt, you can't catch her tonight even at your best." He couldn't- he couldn't- he had to stop, he couldn't keep going. Shiro was right, his body was failing him.  
"Stopping now will - will only put more distance between her." He grunted even as he stopped, a hand on a tree, panting.  
  
"She can't keep up that speed either. Keith, come on. We need to make a plan."  
Keith stared up at Shiro. He didn't need to say anything, he knew Shiro could read every thought as if they were written across his face.  
"I'm angry too, at myself. We should have taken more precautions, I just wanted to trust Matt could handle her - he knows her."  
"Obviously not enough to just up and tell her like that." Keith sank down into a squat, leaning back against the tree and pushing his damp hair out of his face. When did he get so out of breath?  
"This wasn't the plan... Come on, we should go back."  
  
"What _was_ the plan?" Keith asked as he took Shiro's left hand and let him haul him up.  
"That their mother would be around. That they could sit Katie down and tell her, not... This."  
"Their mother passed at the solstice." Keith said quietly as they began to pick their way back through the trees. "She's been on her own since then, from what I can tell."  
"You seem to know rather a lot." He could hear the amusement in Shiro's voice without looking at him.  
"She had good information. And stew." He grunted. Shiro was silent for a moment.  
  
"Do you think she knew? What she was?"  
"If she did? She's a great actor. I knew there was something odd about her, but it never hit me that _she_ might be-"  
"You're not to blame." Shiro interrupted him softly. "What she is, is rare. You couldn't have known."   
"What _is_ she?" Keith asked, and Shiro opened his mouth but closed it again as they re-entered the clearing. Matthew was clutching the red cloak, balled up in his arms, his face deathly pale.  
  
"She was too fast." Shiro said, putting a hand on Matt's shoulder, "She'll tire soon, and she's not exactly covering her tracks. We'll find her, but for now we need to rest. Keith needs to get cleaned up."   
Matthew stared over at Keith, but let Shiro guide him back towards the house.   
  
☆  
  
It had felt like one of the longest walks of his life. When they'd finally gotten back to the house, Keith had hung back, unsure about reentering without her there. Matt had crossed the threshold and stopped at the sight of the furs and meats set up all around. He touched the ledger on the table, flattening the page to read what she'd written.  
"Shit. She got busy."   
"She was trying to get the money to go to Altea." Keith said quietly from the doorway and Matt looked at him, then back to Shiro.  
"Even so, this was a big warning sign." Shiro inspected one of the cuts she'd been preparing. "This is a _lot_ for one person to do under their own steam."  
  
Matthew's lip wobbled, he brought the cloak back up to his face and left the room. Lance had been stood by the door, still pale and his coat speckled with blood.  
"I'm- gonna get the fire going."  
"Keith, come here, I need to look at those cuts on your face." Shiro had said, but Keith pushed past him to follow Matthew.  
  
Matthew was sat on Pidge's bed, the cloak by his side but one of her pillows held to him instead. His face was buried in the fabric, shaking slightly.  
"Matthew."   
  
He looked up, eyes falling on Keith and he smiled wryly.   
'Matt' is fine."

Keith nodded and closed the door quietly behind him, then leaned back on it.   
  
"I wouldn't have hurt her."  
  
Matt snorted and it became nearly a sob in the end as he wiped his hand up over his eyes and then wiped under his nose with his sleeve.  
"I mean, no offence but you shot her. Nearly in the heart." The guilt prickled up his spine, mixing uncomfortably with the sore spots he knew would be bruising already.  
  
"That was before I figured out it was her. Once I did I... I don't think I would have been able to hurt her. Not unless she gave me no choice."   
"If you hadn't 'figured it out'? If you'd slain a beast, only to find out later it was her?"   
  
Keith thought of the fear he'd felt when she'd disappeared in the forest. His shock and grief when he thought she'd been killed. The bile that had risen in his throat when he'd realised he might have to kill her. Like it or not, the girl had gotten under his skin.   
"I'd have been devastated." He said quietly, truthfully. "Pidge was kind to me. Gave me food and shelter. I owe her that kindness back."   
  
Matt cocked his head, watching him with a curious look so like his sister's that Keith had to look away.  
"Lance didn't mention you'd slept here. I honestly thought you'd been watching her because you knew what she was. Why didn't you figure it out sooner?"   
"How can I figure something out when I don't know what I'm looking for? I knew there was something up. There was magic gathering around her in fits and bursts. I thought I should deal with the imminent threat, and then look into her properly later. I'm not as... Experienced as the likes of Shiro." He said with a shrug. "Sure, he taught me but you can't really _know_ how to recognize a certain kind of magic until you've felt it."   
He glanced up around the room, at the little bags of herbs on the shelf above the bed, and the runes in the door frame above his head. He needed an answer. "What the hell _is_ she?"  
Matt picked at the seams on the pillow, staring down at them as if to steel himself before answering.  
  
  
"She's a shifter."   
  
A _shifter_? Really? He was expected to believe that? Not only were they rare - he'd never met one, probably why he hadn't recognized the signs - but that would mean...  
  
"Look, Shiro may trust you, but you're making it hard for me to believe that nobody fucking _knew_ about this." Keith bristled, voice rising. "That kind of magic is passed through blood - she had to have known, _your parents_ had to have known. Tell me whatever you told Shiro to convince him."  
  
"It was our mother." He murmured. "She told my father, and nobody else. Apparently, she watched us like hawks as children, waiting for signs that we were the same. Neither of us showed any signs, ever. I had magic, but Katie? Look, she was desperate to be like me, like our mother. She'd beg and plead for chances to try spells. Would sit for hours trying to make magic, talk to the flowers like our mother did. She wanted it, and yet nothing ever surfaced. My father started taking her to work with him, to take her mind from it. Taught her science and woodwork and hunting - good skills that she could turn her hand to, and she seemed to forget the whole thing. My mother thought we were safe."  
  
"When did you find out about all of this? Pidge said you've been gone nearly two years."   
  
"Like I said before, not until a few weeks ago. You've noticed the runes in the house?" Matt waved an arm to the rafters, the door frames. "Strong, aren't they? I started looking them up and found clues that something wasn't quite right. When I hit a roadblock, I brought my findings to Shiro. He helped me figure it out. Encouraged me to write to my mother. We had a plan - my mother and I. I would come home, and we would talk to Katie together, tell her the truth and keep her safe.   
  
"Shiro wanted to come too. He said journeys are safer in groups, and... He's dealt with a new Shifter before. He said they're unpredictable. Braced me that it might not go so smoothly, but I didn't think it would be THIS bad. My mother gone, Katie running off... So now we need a new plan."

Matt looked up at him, tears dried, jaw set.  
  
"Shiro says you're a good tracker. Keith... Can you find my sister?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letters were something I wrote separately, really early on and then realised I could probably use them. I wrote quite a few.  
> Matt is one of those people who writes really flowery letters full of proper grammar and descriptions and shit, and scents them with perfume bc he's a NERD.


	7. "She's dangerous."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Pidge, it's me." Keith whispered, not daring to move anything other than his lips. "I know you recognized me before."   
> The snarl that rippled out from her throat and the step backwards said otherwise. Red stained the snow around her and the tell-tale skid marks scribbling through the slush marked out the struggle between her and her prey. He hoped to the Creators that it wasn't a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine is kicking my ass. I have 100 drafts and I haven't worked on any of them.
> 
> So check out the big ol' art piece for this, easily my fave Keith design: https://twitter.com/SylenisArts/status/1239632865845002240?s=20

_☆_

_ A letter addressed to Matthew Holt, dormitory 43 in the South wing of Altea University. Written in code, the runes sealing the letter appear to have been tampered with, but remain intact.  _

_My dearest son,_

_Please do not think I kept this from you because of a lack of faith or an assumption that you could not handle this._

_Shifters have always been regarded with disdain, even within magical communities. It is the belief of many that once turned, Shifters become mindless beasts with a proclivity for violence and bloodshed. That their human forms are merely a facade cloaking the beast within from the public. There are those who have brought truth to those tales; new Shifters, unable to control their changes have gotten out of control and hurt people unintentionally. Others have used their gifts for unsavory deeds and harmed the innocent on purpose. Shifters often find themselves shunned from the public, or forced to hide themselves away._

_I grew up in hiding. In fear of being found out, of being found 'guilty' of crimes I'd never dream of committing. Afraid to allow others to really know **me**. _

_And though I found true love with your father, who always loved me unconditionally for all that I am, true happiness was short-lived for me when I feared for you, my son, and for your sister. It has always been fear that has kept me from entrusting you with the truth._

_When you showed signs of having magic, oh! my darling, that day you set the rug alight, I have never felt such a mix of pride and pure terror. At night I would dream of you turning and being dragged from my arms by people who can never understand us._

_It never happened. The day never came, and I did wonder when you set off for the university if you would discover my gift, latent within you. Such abilities can lie dormant or even skip a generation, but it appears to have passed safely over you._

_You are right to ask, and the timing feels almost fated that you have discovered my secret, for I now fear the worst for Katie._

_Not once has she ever shown even a spark of or affinity for magic. She has always taken after Samuel, I see him so much in her. He was always closer to her in ways I could never dream of reaching. You and I share a link that she did not, and even though she had no magic, there was always the faintest of barriers keeping me from her._

_Matthew. Our ability can lie dormant, as I said before. It is theorized some people may spend their whole lives oblivious to their gifts, never knowing what they're capable of. Perhaps this would have been the case for Katie, but I fear the trauma of losing your father has brought something to the surface I hoped didn't exist._

_I wish I had held her back that day. That I could have caught her and stopped her from running off into those woods. Whatever she saw in there changed her._

_The men who retrieved your father's Hunting party came back different, and your sister was the one to find him. I wish she hadn't. I wish more than anything I could take away the memories for her._

_She is showing signs of shifting, Matthew. For the first three days after the funeral she slept without waking. After that, she stopped sleeping almost entirely, and when she does, she sleepwalks. I am finding her in the garden. Asleep in the hearth or under the hedgerows. Though she will never say it aloud, I watch her work and see her bones pain her. She stops her task to favour her joints and struggles to help bring in the water and firewood. When she's not working she's wandering the woods, bringing home kill after kill with a focus unusual even for her. I forbid her from going into the forest and she ignores me._

_To anyone else, these sound like symptoms of grief and exhaustion. I worry I am reading too much into her behaviour, that in my grief I'm seeing something that isn't there._

_I'm afraid to broach the subject. If I am wrong, I will only bring her panic and confusion for nothing. If I am right, I'm doing the same damage as she will realize she no longer knows herself. If I wait too long, she could hurt herself or others. The village is on edge- watching for the beast that is picking off our own and she could wander into a trap and we would lose her too. If I am not careful with how and when I tell her, I run the risk of us both being exposed, and with the village in its current state it would mean certain death. No matter what I do now, I am only going to add to the stress and heaviness weighing on my only daughter's heart and I cannot bear it. I am at a loss._

_I will enclose the coin for passage back home. It was too fast, over too quickly to have you home for the funeral. The pyre was constructed and last rites performed within 24 hours of the Hunting party being returned to us. I wanted you here, but at the same time wished to spare you the trauma. But now I must ask you to come home for this._

_On top of everything else that is happening, I have taken ill. A mere cold I hope, but it is still sapping me of my strength and I must ask you to lend me yours to help Katie. The two of you have always shared a deep bond, she has always looked to you for guidance and comfort and I hope your presence will ease her mind when we have to tell her of my suspicions._

_Despite the circumstances, I cannot wait to see your face again, my son. I await your reply and wish you a safe journey home to us._

  
_All my love X_

☆

"Shiro says you're a good tracker. Can you find my sister?" 

Keith didn't answer immediately and Matt leant forward, raising his eyebrows to prompt a response. Well, of course he'd assumed they'd be going after her, but there was something else to Matthew's voice that had him unsure.

"Find her..." he said slowly, "and then what?"   
"Bring her home," Matt said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I never got a chance to tell her, well- anything. She figured the basics out for herself and ran. She needs to know the whole story. She needs to be where I can help her. She's all alone out there." 

"Matt. She's dangerous. She's hurt people-"   
"Would you believe me if I said she's innocent?" 

Keith scanned Matt's face. He held eye contact, face tired and grief-stricken but defiant, set in his belief. What if she was? The monster he'd fought had fumbled, had hesitated. Had the fight continued he'd have won far more easily than he'd been led to believe by the tales he'd been told.

"I- even if that's true, what about from tonight? What if I find her, and find a trail of death behind her? What if she attacks someone in that form?"  
"You're not listening- she _doesn't know_. She's not in control. She needs to come home where I can protect her!"  
"And you're not listening to me- other people won't see it that way. If she hurts someone, even by accident, they'll want revenge. They'll send hunters who don't know her - they'll just see a monster, a killer, and want her pelt as a rug." 

Matt's eyes widened and it was as though for the first time he was really considering it. What could happen to Pidge if people found her. Keith knew of some hunters that liked to play with their food. Knew that even if she was frightened by someone, if she attacked in self-defence, people would take any excuse to launch a witch hunt. People were bloodthirsty and would take joy in hurting her. That same sickness rose in his throat as he thought about her, out there right now and completely alone. Unable to justify herself. 

Matt took a deep breath, nodding to himself. His voice was thick.   
"If you had no other choice... Would- would you make it quick?"   
Keith closed his eyes as the request came, small and slow as though he wanted to stop himself talking. Keith owed Pidge that much.

"She wouldn't even know it was happening." He answered softly. Matt's next breath shuddered as if swallowing a sob. He glanced back up at Keith, eyes wet but gentle as he nodded again in acceptance of his answer.  
"She's my little sister, she's all I have left. I- don't want her to suffer. She's suffering now, but I still have hope we can help her. I still believe she hasn't hurt anyone."

Keith nodded, holding back a sigh as he looked at Matt. He wanted to like him. He seemed as honest and stubborn as his sister, practical yet kind. In another time they might have been friends. Matt wiped his eyes again on his sleeve with a suspicious clearing of his throat and stood up.

"I'd best get some supplies together."

He passed Keith to leave the room without looking back at him, and Keith followed. Shiro was sitting at the table still clad in his armour, leaves and even wolf hair, Keith realised with a sinking gut, caught in the joints of his bracers. Lance seemed to be busying himself pulling the kettle out of the fire and setting up a bowl of hot water steeping with healing herbs. Keith swallowed the sickness that bubbled within at the sight of someone else using Pidge's things, meaning to continue on with Matt to sort out whatever he meant by supplies, but Shiro stood up and reached out for him.  
"Come here, you need to get cleaned up."

"Lance, can you come help me?" Matt called over his shoulder as he made his way across the kitchen and towards the front door. Lance seemed to dither for a moment, grumbling to himself about making drinks, but followed him out, leaving Keith and Shiro alone in the little main room.

"Nice kid. Big mouth though, we'll have to watch he doesn't blab." Shiro steered Keith to the table and plopped him down to sit in the seat Pidge had sat in that first night, writing and eating and shooting him mischievous looks. "Been a while since we did this, huh."   
"You save my ass on a hunt?"  
"Well, I meant nearly get both our heads bitten off by a monster, botch the job and have to patch each other up while planning our next move, but... yeah. Strange times."

"Strange indeed." Keith paused, his eye squeezing shut as Shiro dabbed a soaked pad over it. Hot water trickled down into his eye and when he squinted out of it the moisture blurred pink. "I just agreed to go hunt down a beast and... Bring it home." Somewhere in the vicinity of his eyebrow, something began to twinge. He must have cut himself at some point.

"Matt can be persuasive." Shiro hummed, discarding the little pad and plucking another from the bowl of hot, seasoned water to start on another area of Keith's face. The fingers on his metal hand were warm from the hot water, but gentle as he tilted Keith's head to the side to clean a graze on his jawline.  
"Runs in the family," Keith muttered, wincing a little at the newest sting, and Shiro smirked.

"You like her."  
Keith yelped and jerked his head out of Shiro's hand, pressing his fingertips to his chin. He glared up at Shiro through his hair, but his amused grin remained unchanged.

"I... She's someone I could have been friends with. I'm mad at myself for not seeing what was going on with her - that I couldn't do anything."  
Shiro's eyebrow lowered, and he nodded thoughtfully.   
"Show me your arms and back."

Keith gingerly pulled at the edges of his bracers, lifting his sleeves to check underneath. Bruising was starting; a nice fish scale pattern reddening on one bicep where he'd landed on his mail. Shiro dug through a pouch, retrieving another tonic for the bruising and a hip flask that he knocked back, and then offered to Keith who accepted it, grateful for a shot of something to steel his nerves. They shuffled their seats closer to the fire, scraping across the stone floor as Keith shivered where the night air reached his skin. He took another swig of whiskey, letting the heat run down his throat and offset the burn of his scrapes and cuts.

"You believe Matt? That she didn't hurt anyone?" Keith asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as Shiro tended to his shoulder.  
"I know two things. That people have been killed in those woods, and that Katie, who lives by the woods, is a Shifter. It'd be easy to jump to conclusions, but... You were here longer. You worked this job. What does your gut tell you?"

Keith bit his lip against a hiss that threatened and thought. Thought of how this had all happened right under his nose, and now Shiro was asking his opinion?   
  
"That... it's a strange coincidence. A whole village claims a big dark wolf is attacking them, and one of the villagers turns out to be a-" Keith sat up straight, jostling Shiro and his bottle of tonic. He peered over at Shiro, and then narrowed in on the tuft of hair caught between plates of the armour on his forearm. Before Shiro could say anything he snatched the hairs and stood up, patting his breeches with his free hand. He'd kept it in one of his pouches - just in case... 

He held up the dark, almost black wiry hairs from before, letting them catch the light and shine almost crimson. In his other hand, the fur from Shiro's armour was softer, the colour of butter toffee.  
"I found this-" he indicated the dark hair in his right hand, "-at an attack site today. But _this_ -"  
"-came from Katie tonight." Shiro finished, his steel eyes appraising from hand to hand. "Matt's right. There's something else out there."

"Well yeah, I'm always right."   
Matt was back, carrying a bag with Lance behind him. "What have you found?"

Keith wordlessly placed the two hanks of fur on the kitchen table and let Matt inspect them as he tugged his tunic back on. He was very aware of Lance's staring.  
Matthew looked back up at Shiro and Keith, eyes wet again but determined.  
"You believe me now, right?"  
"I mean, there's still no witnesses-"

"I have proof!" Matt barked. "Letters, a timeline - my mother knew she hadn't turned when the attacks started-"   
"Letters from a woman who isn't here to tell me so herself." Keith retorted, and at Matt's belligerent expression he backtracked a little. "I want to believe you - trust me I do - but I _can't_ let my guard down when it could cost lives."  
Matt looked like he was about to start arguing, but Shiro crossed over to him to place a hand on his back.  
"We don't have time to fight. We need to focus on getting her back before anything indisputable happens. You have a new plan?"

Matt gazed at him for a moment, then wiped his eyes and nodded. "Y-yes. The plan."  
The leather travel bag had been forgotten on the table, and Matt returned to it to retrieve a cloth-wrapped package.  
"The reason we were later than intended is that we had this made." He unstrung the ties on the package and pressed it into Keith's hand. Keith pulled back the fold and the silver bangle gleamed orange in the firelight. Intricately shaped, with runes carved delicately into the bands. It laid open in his hands, a sturdy hinge on one side and a clasp opposite. It hummed with magic, buzzing against his skin. 

"Amazing craftsmanship. Hunk have something to do with this?"  
"You know him." Matt's lips turned up in the faintest of smiles. "My mother had one like it- I remember it so vividly, but she told me over the years the effects will have waned, it wouldn't be enough to stop a newbie-"  
"It'll block magic? Pidge's magic?" Keith raised an eyebrow, looking over the shining metal to Matt and Shiro.  
"My mother warned me new mages are unpredictable. I researched the spells in case we needed it. The original plan was to give her this, to help her stay in and learn some control, but..." Matt shrugged and trailed off. "Well, we know how _that_ went. You'll need this. It'll stop her from changing, keep her in a human form."

"All you have to do is close it on her once you find her. Wrist, ankle, any limb will do." Shiro said, and Keith stared up at him.  
"You're not coming with me?" He'd assumed, and hoped, Matt wouldn't be coming with him. The human was no Hunter and would only slow him down, but he'd assumed Shiro at least would accompany him. Shiro shook his head with a gentle smile.

"Keith, you've got this. You're an amazing tracker; you'll pick up her trail in no time. Plus, if there's something out there I need to stay back, if it makes a move I need to be here to handle it, and keep Matthew safe." His gaze flickered to Matt and his face softened a little. "He's a good mage, but he's no fighter."

"Plus-" Shiro added and this time he was looking at Lance. "I need to make sure nobody here gives the situation away."  
"Me?" Lance pointed at himself, eyes wide and lip curling in indigence. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
"How do we know you won't just go back to the village and rally everyone up with pitchforks?" Keith asked, a little more venom in his voice than he'd originally intended. Matt clearly meant to protect Pidge at all costs, and he trusted Shiro with his life. This guy? Complete unknown unit. Sure, he was a friend of Pidge's, but his village and livelihood had been upended by whatever Beast had been terrorizing them. Where did his loyalties lie?

"What- No, _no_!" Lance spluttered, "I would never."  
"Lance is a family friend," Matt said quietly, "though, Lance. I do have to ask if you can keep this to yourself- if you want to protect Pidge."  
"Of course I do." He'd stopped stammering and tripping over his words, standing by the table with his face set. "I've known Pidge her whole life. We grew up together. I- I don't understand a lot of this, and honestly, you two terrify me- " Keith fought back a grin at the words, "But you're saying she needs help- that she hasn't hurt anyone, and I believe that... I _have_ to believe that... Or it would break me."

Lance looked at Keith properly this time, worry in every line of his face and lip trembling slightly. "She told me she trusted you. That you were here to help. That's what you're gonna do, right? Help her?"  
Yet another asking him to put Pidge over others. Still, he found himself nodding, not even bothering to fight it anymore. He'd find her. He _wanted_ to find her. He was going to find her and bring her back.

***

Day one hadn't gone well. Pidge's trail was strong, but the weather had turned cold again, threatening snow. Snow might not dampen the remnants of magic, but it would certainly wash away any physical essence. He'd tried to set off the very same night that they'd lost Pidge but the others had bid him rest, Matthew cooking a warm meal from the stores in the house, Shiro discussing tactics and setting up his pack with glamour charms and cured meats, Lance repairing a tear in his recovered cloak.

He was grateful for it now, to be honest. The cloak protected from the chill and chewing on the jerked meat as he travelled kept his stomach full and limbs warm. Pidge would have had to have slowed down by now; no beast could keep up a speed like hers for long, but she was headed North, which only made his journey colder and more treacherous.

By late afternoon the skies made good on their promise, and snowflakes began to fall, obscuring his vision and wetting his clothes. Wonderful. On a less urgent track, he would have holed up somewhere for the night, found shelter and rested his tired bones, but he couldn't stop. Every moment he dawdled risked him losing more ground on Pidge. Was she still a beast? Had she turned back into a human - did she even know how? He wasn't sure which was worse, the images of her stumbling into danger as a man-sized beast, or as a cold, naked girl. 

It was enough to keep him trekking on, stomping through the woodland and only occasionally stopping to double-check he was still on her trail. Even as the sun set low and the light faded he carried on. Every time he thought about how his limbs ached with fatigue the bracelet in his pocket would weigh heavy against his hip and spur him onward.

Day two and he began to worry he was losing more ground. How far could one... possibly human, probably four-legged animal get? The snow that clung to the ground all night and thawed by morning was not helping. The paths and undergrowth alike were slippery, cold and damning. More and more he found himself dreaming of a warm fire, of pulling off his squelching boots to dry as he warmed himself and caught up on sleep, but the look on Pidge's face as she'd come to on a forest floor haunted him. Her horrified shriek had played over in his mind, turning his stomach but kept him walking, one foot in front of the other. Every paw print, every whiff of magic, every broken trail proved him right, pushed him to continue.

His heart sank as he heard the sound of rushing water. Sure enough, as he clambered through the brush he came to a river running across his path. Pidge had been here. There were prints further back in the mud, smeared and warped by the icy slush, but definitely not those of a normal animal. If she'd crossed the river she risked muddying the clarity of her trail.

The water looked cold but clear, fast running and probably deeper than it seemed. Keith's feet were already numb inside his boots, but that didn't mean the idea of wading through the icy water brought him any joy. Gingerly he picked his way around the bank of the river, scanning for any sort of clue as to which direction she'd gone in. Had she followed the river up or down, had she crossed?  
A shallow dam of rocks bubbled further downstream; a much safer way across. He paused, judging each rock before hopping onto it, praying none of them were more slippery than they looked.  
On the other side of the river, he paused to drink, the cold water refreshing and clearing the fuzzy tired taste from his tongue. As he dipped down for a second drink, weighing up the pros and cons of dunking his face in to wake him up a little, he caught sight of a wet web of fur caught in the debris of fauna on the edge. 

"So you did cross..." For the first time since setting off he grinned, though he didn't let himself get carried away, pausing to rinse out and refill a canteen with water and take one last drink before continuing in the direction he'd been following. 

The lack of daylight did little to lift his spirits; days seemed to roll over far too quickly if he judged by the light of the sun, and the nights dragged on without a care for his fatigue. The sun starting to fall on the third day was blood-red, lighting the barren woodland as if it was on fire, and it was then that Keith heard it.

Crunching. Snapping. The sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing wetly.

Fuck.

He slowed down to a crouch, prowling as quietly as possible towards the sound. With most animals hibernating or staying south, the chances of this not being his quarry were slim. They _had_ to be slim. He could feel it in his gut. This was it. With barely a creak of leather and fabric, he slipped his pack from his back and laid it carefully among the roots of the tree he hid behind.

Shaggy matted fur was burning gold in the dying light, tail turned towards him, head down as it tore into its kill. A beast whose shoulders reached his own, that was neither wolf nor mountain lion, but some strange mix of the two. Her haunches were sunken, hip bones jutting out even with the fur covering and she huffed as she ate, panting as though exhausted.

Keith slipped the metal bracelet out of the pouch, gripping one half of the open bangle as he pondered his next move. Any limb. It was definitely the right size that it would fit Pidge's ankles if he had to sneak up on her. In his mind's eye, she was so small. The creature she was now was completely focused on its meal; maybe he could get close enough to take it by surprise.

Wrong. The head whipped around to face him, golden eyes trained directly on him, creamy muzzle stained red. He held his breath as the beast stood frozen, eyes locked on each other.  
Her hackles raised, the dorsal stripe of fur along her spine flaring up, black lips curling back over white fangs in a low growl.

"Pidge, it's me." Keith whispered, not daring to move anything other than his lips. "I know you recognized me before."   
The snarl that rippled out from her throat and the step backwards said otherwise. Red stained the snow around her and the tell-tale skid marks scribbling through the slush marked out the struggle between her and her prey. He hoped to the Creators that it wasn't a person.

"Don't run, Pidge. Pidge, _Katie._ Come on, don't make me do this."

The teeth snapped together with a chuff of breath, rising in a cloud in front of her face. Keith refused to flinch, refused to even move. He had bolts that could slow her down but didn't dare risk moving his arm to retrieve his bow. The bracelet hummed in his hand, ready to be used.

Her whole body seemed to coil in on itself, blank yellow eyes staring. A split second before she sprang away Keith leapt forward, managing to sling an arm around the barrel of her chest. She skidded in the snow, the two of them tumbling down as her feet slipped underneath her. The air left his lungs as if he'd been punched in the gut as he hit the frozen ground and her solid build slammed against him. She recovered much faster- pinning Keith on his back, white fangs and hot, bloody breath in his face. 

"Fuck- Pidge-" She snapped her teeth, spit flying and fangs sinking into the bracer of the arm he thrust up to deflect her from his face. He still howled as his flesh was pierced, burning pain rushing to his forearm. The almost shocked look in her face, ears flat back against her head like a guilty animal forced a hysterical bubble of laughter from his chest but she still didn't let go, jaw locked around his arm. Now was his chance- if he could just move. The hand clutching the bracelet was stuck, trapped down at the elbow by a large paw.

He curled and uncurled his arm, trying desperately to build enough speed to bring his forearm parallel with her leg. His other arm felt almost like it was numb until every movement caused teeth to scrape bone and another hiss to spit from between his teeth. Blood was starting to ooze from the bracer, drooling down the beast's lower lip. The growl that reverberated through his bones and muscle was a warning, almost as if she was afraid of what would come next if she released him.

He was going to regret this. With a grunt he kicked up into her soft underbelly and yanked his arm to the side at the same time, dragging her head with it. She yelped, mercifully letting go and stumbling as the momentum sent her after his damaged arm, and her weight -finally- rose from his left arm, letting him curl up and slam the bangle over her leg. Almost like it had a mind of its own it snapped shut, flashing and the whine turned into a scream of pain.   
Keith panted, clutching at his bleeding arm as his eyes watered. The creature's shrieks were bloodcurdling - she was writhing and screaming - rolling and biting at the band on her leg. Keith sat up, cradling his arm and unable to tear his eyes from the beast in throes of shifting, receding in size and fur length, only quieting when a young girl finally lay in its place, unconscious and curled in the snow.

His first instinct was to go to her - to check her over, but his arm was throbbing painfully and his vision was darkening around the edges. He stumbled to his feet, a little unsteady but able to return to where he'd left his pack, crouching down in the brush to dig through it. With his teeth and his left arm he pulled the stopper from a bottle and poured the tonic over his arm, not bothering to remove his armour first, gritting his teeth as it stung and burned.

The river was close by. He could go back and - no, wait. Where there was a river, a town must be near. There were a few towns further north, smaller the closer to the mountains but if he checked a map he might be in luck. The short walk back to Pidge shortened his breath again, and he had to steel himself before approaching the darkened, snow-sprayed carcass where he'd originally spotted her. 

A deer. It was just a deer, and a small one at that. His sigh of relief seemed to ripple down to his boots, his legs shaking. At least that made his choice obvious. He'd bundle her up, and get the two of them somewhere safe to rest for the night. Pidge was still unconscious, completely under and for the second time, he undid his cloak and tucked it around her neck, arranging her as gently as possible with his one good arm to get the cloak underneath her prone body. He told himself his cursory glance was just to check her for injuries, and nothing more. She was still angular, hips and shoulders sharp lines of pale skin against the dark fabric, possibly skinnier than he was remembering, and though bruises and scrapes marked her limbs and stomach he couldn't see anything that required immediate attention as he wrapped her completely in his cloak. 

Setting his jaw against his protesting arm he hefted her towards him, balancing her on his knees as he adjusted his grip to carry her across his chest. Her head lolled against his chest and with one hand he pulled the fur trim up around her until only the top of her head and her scuffed feet poked out from either end of the cloak. 

Hard part over, right?

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intention was always for Matt to send Keith after her, bc you can't smooch the girl when her brother is in town.
> 
> So check out the big ol' art piece for this, easily my fave Keith design: https://twitter.com/SylenisArts/status/1239632865845002240?s=20


	8. "And what do you believe?"

☆

"Here's the last of the water. Are you sure you don't want one of my girls to come help your sister?"   
The stout older woman was clearly trying to peek past the doorway, to the girl curled unconscious in the farthest bed.  
"Oh-no- no..."  
  
She raised an eyebrow and Keith realized he hadn't even thought about that. That _he'd_ have to oversee cleaning her up. He couldn't risk letting anyone else too close; it was far too dangerous right now.  
"She's uh, very shy, even when she's well. And I don't want to trouble you any. It's just a fever."  
The woman still looked a little unsure and Keith dug another coin from his pocket.  
"Is there any chance of a warm meal tonight? Something gentle for her stomach?" At this - and the sight of the gold between his fingers - her face softened a little.   
"There's soup on tonight I can send up, and some bread. It'll be ready a little later."  
  
"Thank you." Keith pressed the coin into her hand and retreated back behind the door. Pidge was stirring, so he yanked the charm off and crossed over to the little cot he'd placed her in. To be fair, she _was_ burning up a little, and her chin quaked with shivers.  
Keith sighed, shaking his head as he left her to tend to the inn's little tub near the fireplace. It was lucky that they'd been close to an inn where he could hopefully get her cleaned up before anyone could lay eyes on her in the daytime. Twigs and leaves adorned her matted hair like some sort of fae crown, the mud and bruises along her limbs, hips and face were nearly indistinguishable from each other. Not to mention that under that cloak she was naked as the day she was born.  
  
A quick spell had the water in the tub steaming in a tempting manner. Keith slung his heavy braid over his shoulder and out of the steam as he stirred the water with his hand. Maybe he'd find time to get cleaned up too. The bite mark on his arm didn't _seem_ to have any lasting magical effects on it, but a bite is a bite, and keeping it clean would be paramount.  
  
Pidge groaned, the cot creaking and Keith returned to her. The little pained moan increased in volume until her eyes snapped open and she screamed. Keith flinched, taken by surprise and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her before the nosy innkeeper could hear.   
He immediately regretted it as she began to struggle - panicking even more - and he had to use his weight to pin her down on the bed. His knees braced over her legs, left arm pinning her shoulder down, trying to keep her still even as she shrieked and babbled something against his palm. Hot tears were pooling in the crease between her face and his fingers and tracking into her filthy hair. The arm with the bracelet poked from under the cloak, twitching under his grip, the muscles under the skin taut and spasming and his eyes widened at the sight before he looked back into her face.  
  
"Pidge, it's me - it's _me,_ you need to calm down." He hissed but still she strained under him, one arm flapping uselessly against his. "I can let you go but _only_ if you don't scream like that again- you want the whole town to hear you?"  
  
Her eyes were wild and wide, roaming about the room and back to stare at him. Her chest heaved with the effort of breathing while trapped beneath him, breath puffing through her nose over the back of his hand.  
"Are you gonna be quiet?"  
A pause, and a little nod. Keith turned his body, freeing her legs first before releasing her mouth and arm.   
  
She bolted. Making for the door, tumbling off the bed onto her hands and knees and scrambling up. Keith barely had time to give chase before she cried out again and collapsed, clutching at her wrist.  
"Burn- it's burning-" She hissed, voice cracking with pain and disuse. "What have you _done_ to me?!"  
Keith reached out, slowly, gently but firmly taking her hand and pulling it away from where she had it tucked to her middle to look at it. A ragged gasp left her slack mouth as though his touch burned too.  
"Why did you bring me here?! Why didn't you just kill me out in the woods?"   
"I'm not going to kill you." Keith answered shortly, touching the bracelet with a fingertip. It was warm like metal that had lain against skin and absorbed body heat. Yet when he hooked a finger under it her skin was red, inflamed and indeed looked like it had burned her.   
"Then what is this?" She squirmed in his grip, trying to pull away and favor her arm. "Punishment for all the people I killed?"  
"Shut up!" Keith hissed back, "You'll be heard." but she didn't respond, only groaned again, her arm twisting in his hand as she coiled in on herself. It shouldn't be hurting her like this- this wasn't part of the enchantment, not unless-   
  
"Stop trying to change back. The bracelet keeps you in human form, it's burning because you're trying to change and activating the enchantment."  
"Wha- no... I'm-I'm not, I don't even know _how..._ " Her whispers were punctuated with sharp breaths, sucking air in as tears built up under her eyes again.  
"So when you ran off-"  
"I didn't- I don't remember... I just remember running..." She hiccuped, "I don't know how it happened." Her arm twitched less as she spoke, her mind focusing on speaking and he pressed on.  
  
"But you remember we were in the woods."   
"It's like... Like dreaming. Now I'm awake, I can't remember, just... Trees, a-and snow... Your face... _Blood_..."   
Pidge's head snapped up toward him, searching his face and his shoulders for any sign of injury, bracelet forgotten.  
"I'm fine. And you're fine too now, right? Let's get you cleaned up."   
  
Keith got to his feet and hefted Pidge up, his hands under her armpits.   
"Wait- cleaned? Cleaned up- I don't understand-" she stammered, voice cracking and despite her struggling her legs didn't seem up to carrying her weight. Oh well, in the tub she'd have to go. Luckily she was small.   
"Your brother sent me to find you, and bring you home. It'll be a lot easier if you're clean and presentable in public."   
"My brother?" Pidge repeated, going slack. "Does he mean to..."   
  
"To have you home. Yes." Keith answered, rolling his eyes as she stopped dead at the steaming tub, staring at it. "Come on now, in."  
Pidge's weight didn't even move against him, she didn't respond to his command at all. She was so quiet he leaned around her shoulder to check she was still conscious. She was chewing her lip, dirty face scrunched with worry and fatigue. Keith kept one arm around her chest, under her arms and the other reached around to find the clasp to her cloak. He lifted his eyes to the rafters as the cloak fell away but again she barely responded.   
  
"In." He shoved at her back between her shoulder blades, just enough that it should have encouraged her forward, but she just wobbled where she stood. With a deep sigh, he picked her up and lowered her to sit in the water. Mother-henning a human girl was not on the list of things he'd been paid to do before; this was a totally new experience.   
  
She sat in the little wooden tub, water reaching up past her waist though she made no effort to hide her chest. Mud and gunk already swirled away from her, streaking the hot water. He crouched down and nudged her with a washcloth, trying to push it towards her hands and she seemed to come to a little, staring at the cloth as though it had just spoken another language to her.   
"Work with me here?" He urged, and finally she took it. Her limbs were sore and stiff, that much was obvious by the slow, halting manner in which she scrubbed at her skin. Little hitches of breath broke the silence when she tried to lift her arms until eventually, Keith admitted defeat. He took the cloth back and began to work on the smudges of muck, lifting her arms manually to reach every spot and reveal more grazes to treat.   
  
He became aware she was silently crying; thick tears rolling down her face and he let go of her elbow with a start.   
"I can stop." He said quietly, withdrawing both arms from the edges of the tub, but she shook her head.  
"You're OK." She whispered back, and so he nodded and continued.   
  
He wasn't sure how he'd expected this to go - being in close proximity with her at arguably her most vulnerable but honestly, all he felt was a longing pity, a desire to find the words or actions that would fix this. He'd never been good with words; he spoke better with his blade. The only action he could take he was already doing. Instead, he focused on sluicing off the grime coating her feet, refusing to go any higher than her knees or lower than her waist, but gently easing her forward to get at her shoulders, back and neck. Her hair was a complete mess. Knotted and greasy, absolutely filthy to the point it no longer looked its original russet colour, even as he poured cup after cup of water over it.   
  
He lifted her arm up a little to check on the wound his arrow had left above her breast and she seemed surprised it was even there, fingertips on her other hand reaching to touch it herself as though to check it was real. It had started to heal already; the water softening the scab but it looked clean enough even as Pidge continued to pull on her skin to inspect it.  
"...You shot me." She murmured finally, brow knotting as she picked through her tangled memories.  
"It's all good. You got me back." Keith answered in a tone that was practically cheerful for him, but Pidge didn't crack a smile as her gaze fell on the crescent moon of teeth marks on his forearm.  
  
"My brother wants me dead, doesn't he." Pidge said quietly, staring at the knees he'd scrubbed pink.  
"What makes you say that?" Keith continued to pick at a matted braid where the water had softened the leaves into a disintegrating slimy mess, letting go when she turned her face to look up at him.   
"I killed our father." She snapped back, as though it were obvious. "And by extension, our mother. He must be-"   
"Do you remember doing it?" Keith prompted, before she could get carried away.  
"R-remember?"  
"Do you remember ki- hurting anyone?"   
  
Pidge stared at him as though he'd gone mad- an indignant, shocked look in her face that slowly turned to uncertainty as her eyes flicked to the side, thinking.  
"No... I can't remember anything." She furrowed her brow, lifting a hand from the water to rub her face and pinch her nose. "I told you, I only remember running, feeling like I needed to keep moving, keep going... If I had remembered doing anything like _that..._ "  
"I think that's what your brother is clinging to. That your ignorance means you didn't hurt anyone."  
"Yeah, right." She snorted a sound that became a sob halfway through. "As if there's _two_ monsters running around out there."  
  
"That's exactly what he thinks. That something out there is using you for a scapegoat."  
"He thinks I'm being framed." She said flatly, then slapped at the grey water, her fidgeting churning it up. "What the Hell, Matt? This is my life! Not a murder-mystery novel he found in the library- has he gone crazy?"  
"He loves you, and wants to believe in you." He said quietly, and Pidge stopped her mini watery rampage, shoulders sagging.

  
"And what do you believe?"  
  
"I..." Keith looked at her, at her pinched face, skin pink from the heat of the water and friction of the washcloth. At the clumps of hair that stuck to her neck and back and chest like wet seaweed, and how even now it still wasn't as dark as the fur they'd found caught in an arrowhead. Hard to believe someone so small, so frangible could become a beast as tall as he was, and yet he'd seen it. The proof throbbed dully on his arm.  
  
"I believe... That your hair is going to take some work. You look like I dragged you through a swamp backwards." He held up the comb he usually used on his own hair, teeth snapping in places and clogged up with nests of brown hair.  
  
Pidge eyed him for a moment, touching a lock of hair that snaked down her skin, the ends drifting in the water around her arm.  
"Give me your knife."  
"What?"  
"The knife. The one you're keeping on you in case you need to put me down."   
  
The hand she held out was shaking with effort; she was tired, weak from running, heavy from the water and emotional strain. He could overpower her easily if she tried to hurt him or herself. He sighed, unsnapped the small hunting knife from the back of his belt and turned it in his grip to offer her the hilt. She took it with her left hand, gripped a hank of hair on her right and with a deep breath sliced through the handful of matted, felted hair. She dropped the chunk over the side of the bath and immediately started hacking at another lock. The braids and tangles made for an uneven result; so short that even wet the hair that was left stuck out at various angles. The tears were starting again and Keith put a hand over the one holding the knife, easing it back out of her grip even as she tried to continue cutting.  
  
"I'm not done-!"  
"Let me do it. You can't see the back, I can at least make sure it doesn't look stupid."  
She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like ' _you're stupid'_ , but she conceded, hunching over in the water as he took the back of her hair, taking off the length until it looked... Vaguely presentable. Shorter like this, he was able to lather soaps into it and ease out the worst of the knots near her scalp. It might need a second pass after it was dried and combed properly; he was no barber, and couldn't remember the last time he'd so much as trimmed his own hair. He dunked one last bowl of water over her head, letting himself smirk when she spluttered and sneezed.  
  
He retrieved the towels from where he'd dumped them nearby and used one to scrub her short hair. Strands of it floated around the water, twisting this way and that around her legs and when he pulled away Pidge looked up, hair fluffing out already like a sheepdog.  
"Am I 'presentable'?"  
"It's... A look. Better than it was." He grunted and held the towel up in front of him. "Up. Need to get you out and dry."  
Her legs wobbled and she nearly fell into the towel, but he managed to get her wrapped up and bundled back to the cot without too much trouble or any eyefuls of flesh he hadn't already seen.  
"Not used to walking on two legs anymore, huh."   
She glowered at him from under the blankets and towels as he dug in his pack, his humour unappreciated.   
  
"Here." He tossed the dress up onto the bed. "And this." He sat down next to her on the cot, the tightly folded cloak in his hands. Pidge was shivering again now that she was out of the water, jaw clamped to stop her teeth from chattering. Her gaze fell on the cloak and her eyes widened.  
"Is that-"  
"I was sort of right, when I asked if you owned something with magic in it."   
He pulled the ties to loosen the wrapped up fabric, letting the river of scarlet spill open over their laps.   
"There are runes, stitched inside the lining. Nobody would know unless they opened it up at the seams. It was supposed to protect you, yes- by stopping you from changing... That's what your brother told me.  
  
"It's my fault, Pidge. I made you take it off. The enchantments are old, but while you were oblivious to your power, it was enough to work, it seems."  
Pidge didn't answer; her hand reached out to clasp at the fabric, bunching it around her hand. She was dithering and when their hands passed each other's her skin was like ice.  
"Get warmed up, you're freezing."  
  
There was one small bucket of water left unused- Keith undid the band on his braid, combing his fingers through the ends and thinking to at least rinse the stink of travel off himself. He chanced a glance behind him; Pidge was doing some sort of hunched over shimmy to get the dress on without having to sit up fully, so he shucked his already damp tunic off.  
  
Honestly, his knuckles and joints looked as bad as hers- dirt ingrained into the creases of his skin. He ignored his hair to wash at the bucket like a basin, rinsing his face and paying close attention to the teeth marks in his arm. They had stopped bleeding but still stung when the hot water flooded them. Strangely, now he felt more on guard than before- muscles tense as he waited for the feeling of eyes on his naked back, but they ever came. The odd glance behind his shoulder showed a large lump of blankets on the cot- Pidge tucked under, facing away from him. She didn't appear to be in the mood to talk and that suited him just fine.  
  
A knock at the door came just as he was drying his face off with a towel and Pidge jerked up into a sitting position. Keith caught her eye and pressed a finger to his lips before pulling his tunic back on and grabbing the glamour charm on his way to the door. There was a gasp behind him as he slung it over his neck but he ignored it and opened the door.  
  
"Here's your meal, hon." The stout woman was back, a tray in her hands laden with soup and a half-loaf of bread. Keith nodded and took it from her, and as he turned with the tray, she stood on her toes to look around his arm.  
"Oh, you're awake!" She smiled at Pidge, who had pushed herself up on her hands and was staring in horror at Keith, seemingly transfixed until she realised the woman was talking to her. Her gaze slid from Keith to the innkeeper, still wide like a rabbit caught in a torchlight.  
"Oh, you poor dear, you look like you've had a time. Are you feeling better?"  
  
Pidge nodded but didn't say a word, just sat up a little more, leaning against the wall with her blankets bunched around her shoulders. Keith forced a smile as he took a step towards the door, backing her out of the room.  
"She's much improved just for being clean- she'll be even better with a full belly- thank you for the food, ma'am."  
Once more he closed the door on the woman, sighing as he turned back into the room. Pidge's horrified look was back, and he blinked and pulled the charm back off over his head. The vaguely shimmering haze visible in the corner of his eye lifted, and Pidge's mouth fell further open.  
  
"What the _fuck_ was that?" She finally managed, voice hoarse.   
"Glamour charm," Keith grunted, picking the tray back up and bringing it to the bed. "what, you think they'd let a hunter just... walk in with a random girl over his shoulder and rent a room?" He laughed and picked up the loaf, tearing it in two.  
"But does it have to make you look like-?"  
  
"Your brother?" Keith's smirk still lingered even as she glowered. "Not really, but the spell is easier to work if the caster has an image in their mind, and Shiro used him. Useful really, I told the innkeeper we were siblings and that we were stranded after our cart crashed off the trail. Explains why you look like you fell off one and into a bush."  
  
It didn't _really_ make him look like Matthew; even though he couldn't see his face when wearing the charm he knew how it worked. The glamour would change the hue of his skin, scatter freckles over his nose, paint his hair auburn. It was still his voice that spoke from Matthew's lips, Keith's expressions worn upon his face. On second thought, it was probably reasonable for Pidge to think she'd slipped into a fever dream.   
"I don't like it." She huffed and Keith shrugged.  
  
"Here. You need to eat." He offered the soup and bread to her, but she didn't take it. When the bowl pressed under her face, the smell hitting her nose she turned green, the little colour left in her lips draining away and she winced.   
"I can't."  
"You need to get some strength up. We head for your home tomorrow."  
Pidge looked up, face suddenly hard behind her evident nausea, "And if I refuse to go with you?"  
Keith barked a laugh and she actually looked surprised at his response. "How are you going to refuse? You can't even walk straight. And where exactly will you go? You _could_ go now, tell the innkeeper you've been abducted by a hunter, but what will you do then?"  
"I-" She opened her mouth as if to respond, and then shut it again, looking as though she might cry. Keith dropped the bread back onto his lap with a sigh. She really didn't have much choice here.  
"Hey, come on. The way you and your brother talk about each other... I thought you were close. That you'd want to go home to him."  
  
Pidge closed her eyes, the shiver returning to her lips as she slid down the wall and back to lying on the mattress.  
"You need to _eat._ Better now while it's warm. At least try the meat in the soup, that might be more your diet now."   
Pidge opened one eye to shoot him a withering look. "Not funny."  
  
"Fine." Keith sighed in forfeit, lifting the tray to rearrange his legs. "Will you drink water?"  
"'M tired." She mumbled, and by the time Keith turned back with his flask of water she had burrowed under the blankets again.   
"Come on." He wormed a hand into the blankets to find her upper arm and pull her up into a semi-sitting position, pressing the flask into her hands. The colour still hadn't returned to her face, and her skin was cold as a stone statue. She was still shivering, top teeth clamped down on her lip and he frowned. The room felt pleasantly warm to him; the kitchens were underneath the guestrooms, heat from the stoves rising up through the floor- the room itself had its own fireplace that glowed orange- under those thick blankets she shouldn't be this cold.  
  
"Drink." He grunted, tapping the bottom of the flask. He turned and grabbed the blankets from the cot meant for him and threw them over Pidge, adding to her coverings and tucking the edges underneath. She watched over the flask as he arranged the covers, grumbling something incoherent.  
"I said stop it-" she said, louder this time, "What will you sleep under?"   
"Doesn't matter. I'm not cold. You are. Get some rest."  
  
He retrieved his cloak, dry but still muddied along the bottom and slung it over himself as he flopped onto the free cot. The low crackling of the fire he could filter out; he was warm enough and the soup hadn't been bad either. What made his ear twitch, his muscles tense, was the sound of Pidge's breathing behind him. It rattled in and out - he could practically see her chin trembling in his mind's eye. The bed she laid in creaked as she continued to quake in it. His face scrunched tighter, shoulders hunching to his chin in a bid to shut it out. He was dog-tired after trekking and fighting all this way. He could finally get some sleep - he just had to drown out the sounds behind him. Just ignore it.   
  
He couldn't ignore it.   
  
This kid was rapidly becoming a thorn in his side. A thorn that persisted in digging against his ribs, stinging as it worked its way through flesh to get at his heart.   
  
Ugh. He threw his cloak back off and rolled over.   
"Used to wearing a fur coat now?" He quipped, padding back to the bed.   
"Sh-shut up-" Pidge growled as he peeled back the blankets. Her forehead was cold, and in spite of her grumbling, she chased the warmth of his hand with her cheek, following it along. He gingerly leant one knee on the mattress, easing his weight onto the bed. Pidge seemed to immediately wriggle backwards, towards his body heat. She didn't shy away or snap at him to get off the bed. The question sat heavy on his tongue, his jaw set against it, trying to swallow it down despite knowing he had to ask it.  
"Pidge-" He started, swallowing thickly, but she rolled over to look up at him through her fluffy bangs.  
"You're not going to suggest we huddle naked for warmth, are you?"  
"Creators, Pidge! No, I was not going to- not _naked..._ "   
Her eyes were fixed on him pointedly even as she shivered. "But I was going to suggest- I mean, galra run hotter than humans..."  
  
A hand appeared from under the blankets, somewhere near his knee. She patted at his leg, rumpling the covers behind her.   
"Come on then."  
"You're sure?"  
"I'm _freezing._ " She grumbled. "I can't remember ever being this cold."  
  
Keith nodded and shuffled down into the cot as he pulled the blankets up. Pidge's back pressed to his chest and he felt her relax almost immediately.  
"Gods, you're like a _furnace_." She breathed, pulling his arm forwards to lie her cheek against it. "So warm."  
Keith rolled his eyes, but still brought his knees up to surround her more fully. He tried not to jerk away when small, ice-cold feet found his shins, targeting the bare skin under the cuffs of his trousers.   
Pidge might have practically melted into the bed but he felt tense, stiff, lying in bed with her literally in his arms. He _really_ hadn't thought this through. He was supposed to retrieve her, not play sleepover.  
  
The panic increased as she rolled over to face him again, curling almost into a ball inside the curve of his body and pressing her face into his neck.  
"P-Pidge-?" He muttered, but the reply was the incoherent sigh and slow breathing of a girl who was finally asleep. He could feel the breath from her nose in the hollow of his throat, lips and chin resting against his collarbone. Fluffy hair tickled his face and despite all the soaps and floral-scented crap he'd run through it in an attempt to tame it, he could still smell the snow, wind and forest underneath. The right hand that had been resting awkwardly on his own hip made its way forward and around her back.   
  
Just to help warm her up, he told himself.

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is cold bc something-something-werewolf stuff- something- Need Keith to get in bed with her-something magic-


	9. "I won't let that happen"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex scene abounds.

☆

_"Katherine Anne Holt, where do you think you're going?"_

_Pidge lowered her leg from the sill of her window. Colleen folded her arms at the sight of her daughter booted and gloved up, Samuel's scarf knotted around her throat._

_"You can't keep me locked in the house all day!"_

_"Yes I can, and I will. There's a monster running around out there, this isn't a game!"_

_"Not in the daytime." Pidge insisted, clenching her fists and resisting the urge to stamp her foot. "Nobody sees it in the day. Please, mama- I need to go out. To check on dad's traps."_

_"You think your father would want you to go out there right now? To throw away your life for the sake of a few rabbit skins?" Colleen pressed forward, clasping at Pidge's shoulders and shaking her just slightly. "I can't lose you, Katie. I won't." Pidge glared back up at her mother, chin stuck out defiantly._

_"But we can't just hide and wait for the problem to go away!"_

_"Help is coming." Colleen said. "They're sending word asking for Hunters. They'll come and... deal with it. Bring us some peace. But you must understand I can't let you out there, or near any of this."_

_"So what, we're going to live on parsnips and wild mushrooms all winter? If I could catch rabbits- maybe some pheasant, we could trade with the village- keep each other going?"_

_"And now you go altruistic on me? Wanting me to believe you're doing this for others?" Colleen stood back, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Katie, you're doing this for you, because you want to go out there for some- some silly reason, and I won't have it."_

_"I'm doing this for_ us _!" Pidge shouted back, this time really stamping her foot, voice cracking as tears started to well in her eyes and thicken in her throat. "I'm going to use what dad taught me to take care of ourselves, to take care of you- I-I have to go! I need to!"_

_"Mom, you're sick- you're pretending you're not but you are. I have to take care of you."_

_"Katie..." Colleen sighed, a hand to her temple and shoulders sagging. "You're not going to listen to me... Are you."_

_Pidge didn't respond. Her eyes were on the floor and her lip was trembling._

_"I need to take care of you."_

_"Darling it's_ my _job to take care of you." Colleen said with a sad, tired smile. She disappeared and returned with a bundle in her arms._

_"You need to stay safe. You remember all your lessons?" Pidge twitched back as her mother swept the bundle around and behind her, fastening it around her daughter's neck. "I need you to wear this. Whenever you go out."_

_"Your old market cloak?" Pidge wrinkled her nose, bringing up the edge and inspecting the embroidered hem, worn flat and smooth from years of wear._

_"It's special. It was my mother's before me, and her mother before hers. This is all I ask of you. Keep it on you. So I'll always be with you, and know that you're safe when you wear it."_

_Pidge gave her mother a flat look and Colleen sighed. "Please, Katie. Do this for me."_

_Lifting her arms up once more to watch the fabric falling around them, Katie grimaced._

_"Alright, I guess."_

☆☆☆

  
  


The snow was melting. They had that to be thankful for, on top of the ride Keith had managed to secure. He'd left Pidge - curled asleep in a ball under every blanket in the room - to check out the early-rising merchants loading their wares, trading a gold piece for a space on the back of a cart. Light was barely starting to creep over the horizon as he made his way back to the room- he had time enough to wake her, bundle her up and out and if she was still tired, well, that was why he'd gone out hunting for a ride. A ride, and a pair of boots that would do for the journey back, with a pair of thick woolen socks.

He managed to slip through the inn and back to their room without running into the innkeeper or any of the girls that had helped bring up the water last night. The walls were quiet, until a low, choking groan sounded behind his door. 

"Shit-" 

He burst through the door, slamming it back behind him and pressing his back to it, scanning the room. Pidge was hunched over - his stomach dropped - and she retched again into one of the water buckets clutched to her lap.

"Creators..." It came out more as a sigh of relief than anything else as he crossed the little room and sank to his knees next to Pidge. There were tears in her eyes already and she turned her face away as he sat down.

"Sorry- 'M sorry-" She panted, and heaved again. The contents of the bucket were a pinkish brown- likely deer meat half-digested and obviously disagreeing with Pidge's now human stomach.

Keith undid his flask of water and waited for the spasms in Pidge's shoulders to subside before silently holding it out to her. Her face was grey, shining as streaks of short hair stuck to her forehead. She took the flask, eyes closed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before sipping with trembling lips.

"Sorry." She muttered again, hoarse, "You must think 'm disgusting."

"I've seen much worse." Keith replied with a shrug and when she frowned, drinking again he cocked her the smallest of grins. "No, really. This ain't even the top ten."

The trick with Pidge, it seemed, was to talk. When she was stringing herself up mentally or starting to panic, talking about something- anything for her to latch onto seemed to clear her mind. He let himself sit back properly, arranging his legs to sit cross-legged on the wooden floor.

"This one time - I'd not been a Hunter long - I was sent after a Mage's stolen artifact. Tracked the guy down, cornered him and asked him to turn it over. It was a ring. The idiot swallowed it."

She was watching him with narrowed eyes, pale but listening, so he continued.

"Ever seal something with hot tar? He started vomiting what looked like that, just pools of this black stuff everywhere. It just kept coming. I had no idea anyone could produce that much gunk."

He paused to gauge her reaction. She was smiling tentatively back.

"That's disgusting, yet fascinating." She grinned shakily.

"Exactly. You're a long way off shocking me, promise." 

Pidge huffed a laugh, then glanced in the bucket and grimaced. "Not over it myself, however."

Keith stood up and checked the pack, shaking the second waterskin and tightening knots. Pidge was attempting to get to her feet and without thinking he threw out a hand to help haul her up. She held her cloak around herself, standing barefoot and still swaying slightly on the wood floor.

"You going to be OK to ride?"

"Ride?" Her head shot up and then wobbled a little as vertigo took hold. 

"I got us a ride partway home, on the back of a merchant cart. It's faster, and you could use more rest."

Pidge frowned as he hoisted the pack onto his back, picking up the boots he'd dropped on the floor. 

"Am I safe? A-around... _normal_ people?"

"Perfectly safe. You've got the bracelet."

Pidge was turning the bracelet around and around her wrist, biting her lip as she looked at it. The metal glinted against her skin, bumping wrist bones but no longer burning her.

"What if it breaks? Or fails?"

"I know the guy who made it. He's a genius with forging. You'll be fine."

"But if it does- just if. Would you stop me?"

"Pidge-"

"Would you _stop_ _me_." Pidge repeated. "Would you protect people. From me."

Keith sighed and fought not to roll his eyes. "What is it with you Holts? So dramatic."

"What?"

" _Yes._ I'll make sure nothing happens. Will you just put the bloody boots on and come with me?"

He stood by the doorway, watching her tug thick socks onto her feet and lace the boots up tightly around her ankles. When she finished, lowering her foot, she looked up and their eyes met. Pidge didn't blink.

"Why are you doing this? Coming after me, taking care of me, bringing me home."

"it's the job." Keith answered. "Your brother paid me."

Pidge shook her head, wisps of short hair dancing and catching on the hood of her cloak. "There's no way he paid you enough to be worth your while. Not with inn stays, boots and bangles, and cart rides. You're going out of your way."

"Does it matter?" Keith snapped back. He shifted his weight back and forth as Pidge cast a last look around the room before joining him at the door.

"I don't know what the hell is happening. To me. At home. I don't know who to trust, and you-" She faltered and looked down at the new boots, fingers trembling as she twisted them into the hem of her cloak. "-you're helping, so much. _Too_ much and I'm-"

"Do you think me so shallow? So cruel?" He cut in, glaring down at her. Her gaze back was reproachful and she just kept _fiddling_ with her hands, picking at her own skin and he grabbed them to stop her. "I came to do a job, but that job has changed. I could have taken your brother's money and gone the opposite direction. Forgotten about you both. But I wouldn't be able to do that. To leave you in danger, knowing there'd be consequences for everyone involved? I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do."

He brought her hand up to touch his lips to her knuckles. "And because I care. About what happens to you, I mean. You can trust me, OK?"

She'd taken a deep breath when he'd taken her hands, and now she let it out and nodded.

"OK."

☆☆☆

"Are you sure about this?"

They stood near the merchant carts, Keith in his glamour charm, Pidge with her hood pulled up over her face and hands gripping the cape around her body, watching four burly humans finish stacking their wares into the cart. Two of the carts had horses already strapped in, buckles and chains on their tack clinking as they shifted back and forth. The third had large horned beasts, bovine in stature but bigger than any cow in Pidge's village. They shook shaggy heads and chuffed misty breath into the cold air.

"It's the fastest way back, and we need all the time we can get." Keith murmured back to her. They trudged forwards, and as the humans stopped to watch, Keith rested a hand on her back in a way he hoped looked brotherly.

"Ho there, son." One of the men, a little older than the others, waved them over. "Ready for the off? And this must be your sister. Pretty little thing, aren't you?"

Keith felt the eyes of the other men on them both, and heard a growl rising up at his side. The low rumble was coming from Pidge. He swallowed his shock and elbowed her in the back. She seemed to steady herself and drew closer to him.

"Thank you- for letting us ride with you."

"Think nothing of it, little lady. Let's get you on the cart."

Pidge stiffened but thankfully didn't start growling again as Keith led her to the back of the cart and helped her up. He smirked at her as he vaulted up next to her.

"Did you just _growl_ at him?"

"It's not funny!" She snarled back as they shuffled up into the small space, Pidge tucking herself into a corner made by the cart's side and a hay bale.

"It's a little funny." 

She just glared at him as around them the humans drew the bolts on the cart's ramps and shouted last minute checks to each other. Keith settled to sit next to her and wrapped his arm and one side of his cloak around her shoulders. Pidge didn't object, instead leaning closer and resting her head on the inside of his arm.

"Get some rest, kid." He said into her hair, and she nodded against his chest.

Honestly Keith could doze off now, even as the cart jostled them on the stone roads. He could sleep for weeks- not even the sharp stalks from the bales behind his head digging into his ears and neck were waking him up. Pidge was warm, the line of her body pressed to his- a feeling he was getting used to now. 

She wasn't asleep; she was periodically fiddling, messing with the trim on her cloak, picking threads on her dress, biting her nails. The cart hitched high and a hangnail came off between Pidge's teeth. Keith slapped her hand away from her mouth.

"You'll do yourself damage."

"I hate how long they are, and-" Pidge glanced up and around- they were sitting in the back of the cart, well away from any of the drivers or merchants, but she stopped talking anyway. She was self-conscious. Hyper-aware of everything, of the parts of the beast that were bleeding into her human self. Keith grabbed the glove of his free hand with his teeth and tugged it off. With some awkward reaching he managed to pull the other off without crushing Pidge into him, and held the gloves towards her.

"Take them."

"No, it's fine. Really." Her eyes were following his own fingers, pink from the charm but unable to hide his own long thick nails, not unlike the ones she seemed to be growing. She looked up and realised he was watching her, and turned away so her back was pressed to him instead.

"'M OK." 

"Suit yourself." He twisted the other way to stare instead at the road trailing behind them, patches of snow still dotting the fields either side of them. To say this was his oddest job yet was an understatement.

☆☆☆

As promised the carts stopped in Drule as the evening started to cast longer shadows across the stone lanes. Keith brushed hay from his hair as Pidge hopped down next to him, pulling her hood up and looking around.

"It's about a day and a half walk back to your village." Keith said in response to her nervous glances. "We shaved off some good time, taking the cart."

Pidge nodded, still staring off into the town, its cobbled streets shining in the lamplight that dotted the roads, before looking back to him and frowning.

"Oh- I think, your hair. It's darker."

"Ah shit." Keith grunted. "Charm's wearing off."

"Is that- is that bad?"

"Now you're actually conscious? Not really. My biggest worry was getting you somewhere safe without raising suspicion. Now you're up and about, we should be OK. We'll be walking the forest trails anyway."

She was still peering around the town and back to him, and he shrugged. "Unless of course you're planning to run off again."

She shook her head no, so he yanked off the charm. 

Pidge watched the remnants of magic fade away and her face turned up into the first genuine smile he'd seen since- well... in a while, honestly.

"Finally. You look more like you." 

He couldn't help the raised eyebrows in response, and Pidge cocked her head.

"That's supposed to be a compliment. I like you better this way."

"Then I'll take it as one." Keith said, turning on his heel towards a building with a promising looking sign swaying in the evening air. "Come, we should get a meal before we go."

"Wait, I thought we were trying to save time? Doesn't hanging around in a tavern negate the entire cart trip?"

"I've yet to see you eat in the last day, and I'm hungry. It'll give us energy for the walk ahead, and you get to see more of this town."

He glanced behind him, almost laughing as she opened and closed her mouth, unable to argue and seemingly annoyed he'd noticed the way her eyes had been on stalks, trying to take in the walkways and architecture.

"Just... try to act like you belong." He said as he stopped by the door of a tavern. The lights inside were a warm yellow, and there was a small buzz of noise coming from inside, but not the rowdy variety. They should be alright in there. 

To her credit, Pidge held her chin up high and if she noticed the few patrons who looked her way - at her bright red cloak and odd haircut - she pretended not to. 

Keith walked her to a corner to sit at a small table. The building was warmer than outside, and warmth was returning to the fingers he held up to a barmaid for drinks. 

Pidge's hood was still up over her head, and she used the shadow it cast over her face to look freely around the inn - at the tables of drinkers, two large galra who looked like they might be Hunters chowing down on a meal, obvious regulars commandeering the opposite corner and chatting with the workers.

"Having fun?" He muttered across to her, and she shot him a look.

"My home doesn't have anything like this. And I've never traveled further than a day trip. I knew my village was small, but..."

"This is small. Your village is tiny." Keith grunted, then turned his attention to the arusian who brought their drinks to order food.

She was still looking at him, brow furrowed and chewing on her lip. 

"Wait til you see Altea." He said, in an attempt to cheer her up, but her face barely changed. "Because we will be going there."

"If you say so." She said, in a morose tone he'd never heard from her, and before he could press she took her drink closer to her and began to drink slowly. 

Keith rolled his eyes at her petulant expression and leaned back on his seat to get a better look himself at their surroundings. Nobody seemed to be looking their way, at least.

"-I'm telling you, that's the fourth this week."

"And I'm telling _you_ , it's nothing to worry about."

Keith's ears pricked towards the table on his left. Pidge noticed him go still and she followed suit, eyes flicking as she tried to lock onto what he'd noticed.

"You might not be worried about Druids coming and going on the trails like it's a ruddy convention, but I'll be finding another route. It's too many."

Druids. On the trails. The forest trails? Like the one he'd just taken, and was supposed to be bringing Pidge back on? Keith frowned and tilted his head just a little, trying to pick up on the whispering.

"I mean it, they're up to-"

The barmaid was back, between their tables and setting down dishes of food before him and Pidge. The meat steamed in front of their faces but Keith was still trying to lean back surreptitiously to hear the rest of the conversation.

One of the men at the table - the one who apparently wasn't worried - groaned and twisted in his seat. Keith sat forwards, and the human caught the barmaid's attention, apparently asking for more drinks.

Pidge leaned forwards over her dish.

"Druids are real?" She whispered, barely audible to anyone except Keith. 

"Obviously."

"Are they... _What_ are they?"

He fixed her with a stare. "Eat your food and I'll tell you."

"But-"

"If you faint on the trail home, I'm dragging you. Eat."

Pidge matched his glare, lips twisting and nostrils flaring, and then she grabbed a fork, curled her arm around the dish and shoved a mound of stew into her mouth. She chewed slowly, deliberately, still glaring daggers and he half expected her to open her mouth to show him when she swallowed.

Keith took his own dish and started with more normal sized bites, watching her as she seemed to realise she was -finally- hungry and continued eating more enthusiastically.

Satisfied that she might actually finish her meal, Keith shifted his seat a little further around the table, and further from the guffawing pair the table over, and leaned in.

"OK, so you know there's universities for magic. Your brother went to one." She nodded, slowing in her meal just a little, eyes bright with interest and fixed on him.

"There's rules that come with magic. Laws. There's different ones across lands and peoples, but usually they're pretty similar. Don't hurt people. Don't summon shit you can't handle. No unapproved blood sacrifices."

Pidge was nodding along, and just as her eyebrows knit together with a 'wait, what-?' he continued.

"Druids... Don't really have laws. According to books, they were one of the first magic users and they did govern its usage, but... These days they do their own thing. They're pretty rare."

Pidge glanced back to the table, chewing on her lip instead of her food, and she twisted the bangle on her wrist with her free hand.

"Should we be worried? If they're out on the trails?"

Keith stared at his fork for a moment. Contemplating. He hadn't lied to her yet. He didn't like lying, and besides Pidge would probably see through it even in her distracted, worried state. Yet he couldn't worry her any more than she was now. He looked back up into those yellow eyes, wide as they awaited his response.

"No. We'll be fine. It's usually a case of don't bother them, and they won't bother you."

Usually. But in numbers? He was glad they were returning to Shiro; he probably needed to hear this.

She was still looking at him, and he crammed the last part of his meal into his mouth, and pointed his fork at her dish. 

"Finish that. You need to keep up with me on the trails."

He kept his voice nonchalant and after a last pause, Pidge took up her fork again.

☆☆☆

She was quiet on the way back. On the one hand, at least she wasn't complaining, dragging her feet or otherwise being annoying and petulant. She kept pace, head down and marching alongside him in silence.

On the other... She was silent. It felt off to him; the air was the same as it had been on that long walk to the site of her father's death. A few times he'd had to look to his side to make sure she was still there, that he hadn't pulled ahead without realising. The only sound aside from their own muddy boots traipsing over dirt was the occasional clink of the bracelet she worried at constantly.

If he'd thought she might demand a break at first light, after walking all through the night, he was wrong. She carried on going, only pausing when they shared a drink from his pack. 

He traveled alone too often to know of any good walking topics to cajole her into speaking, and without her incessant questions and teasing he had no responses to carry a conversation with. He was almost starting to miss the rambling, but at least he could share a small laugh with himself, wondering if Shiro had ever felt this way about students or apprentices.

"Let's stop." 

Keith paused in a relatively flat clearing. Pidge had stopped too but was glaring at him reproachfully. "Why?"

"We haven't stopped since last night. We need to rest."

"I can keep going."

"Stop complaining and help me build a fire." Keith ignored her as he began to clear out an area on the ground. It was close enough to the edge of the clearing that they could use the tree edges as a windbreaker. It was also the driest of the paths they'd taken so far. If they were going to rest anywhere, here was best. Her boots never moved at all any time he caught them in his peripheral vision.

"Come on!" He barked. "The sun will go down soon, don't you want to keep warm?"

"I thought we needed to get back."

"We can rest tonight and still make good time tomorrow."

"...I'll get some wood."

"Don't go too far."

Pidge seemed to heed his words at least, her footsteps never left his earshot and she periodically returned with kindling and branches, eventually a crumbling log that she hefted at his feet with a small thump. 

"Good work." Keith positioned the log close to the small fire he'd been coaxing to life to help it dry.

Heat flickered over his face in an orange glow and he sat back and patted the dirt.

"Come on. Rest."

Pidge watched him for a moment, and then lifted the tails of her cloak to sit down and arrange it around herself. Tucked up with her hood pulled around her face, she stared sullenly into the fire. 

"Here." He passed a canteen to her that she took without a word. Keith rolled his eyes and fluffed his own mantle up. 

They'd been walking so long he'd forgotten how numb his feet were. He stretched them out a little closer to the fire and unpicked his bracers to check on his arm. The fabric pad stuck to his skin a little as he peeled it back and he couldn't help the breath he sucked in through his teeth as it stung a little. The teeth marks were starting to scab over well enough, a little swollen still and tinged a darker purple that ached when he poked at it.

He looked around at a noise next to him. Pidge was watching him fiddle, her lips parted and eyes wide. When he stopped and looked over at her, she finally closed her mouth and set her jaw tight.

"It looks worse than it is." He grunted.

"I did that, though. It should never have happened."

Keith huffed and covered the bite back up, leaning back on his hands. "It's fine. Forget it."

"But like... It's just a bite, right? You're not going to start... howling in the night?"

Keith started laughing. "It's not lycanthropy, what you've got."

"Well I don't _know_ what I've got." Pidge bit back. "I have no idea what's going on. All I know is you think there's another... _thing_ in the woods. Surely it's not too far a jump to theorize that maybe it bit me or infected me somehow. Caused this."

"Your brother tried to tell you everything, but you ran off before he could."

" _You_ know. You've had twenty four hours where you could have told me."

"You never asked."

"I'm asking now." Pidge said, quiet but blunt. She'd edged closer the entire time they'd been talking, and she sat, legs tucked off to the side and her palms on the ground.

"Pidge, it's not... I think you should wait til we get back to your brother."

"I can't wait. I feel like I'm going crazy! Everything I thought I knew about myself, it's all gone- all those deaths in the village, for all I know you're walking me home to my execution, people lining up to meet me with a noose!" Her voice rose with every syllable, pitching and cracking as the words fell from her mouth with increasing speed.

"That's not going to happen." Keith finally sat up straight, breathing in as he faced her properly this time. "It's not."

"How do you know?! What aren't you telling me?"

"Your brother asked me to bring you home in one piece." Keith responded, as calmly as he knew how but she continued to wring her hands, twist the bangle on her wrist and shake her head.

"Yeah because a public burning is no fun if I'm already dead-"

"You think your brother would do that? Seriously?" He reached forwards, pulling her wrists apart to try and steady her, to try and make her focus on him. Frantic tears were forming in her eyes, streaking down her face and into the creases around her nose and mouth.

"I could have been responsible for our parents' death, he'd have every right to- to abandon me, to denounce me!"

"He won't. And if he did, I wouldn't let that happen."

"But you can't-"

"It's not going to happen, I wouldn't let it."

"How? Why? You-" 

Keith pressed forward, letting go of her arms to grab her wet cheeks. She gasped when their lips met, but the next second it was like a switch flipped and she turned boneless against him.

Her breath was hot from her panic, tears pooling in the line where his hands molded around her face. When he broke away he didn't move back; their noses touched as they finally made real eye contact.

"I won't let anything happen." He repeated, slowly. "I promise."

Pidge stared, lip trembling as she breathed. Her hands shook as they left the ground, stained with dirt as they made their way up under his mantle to hook over his shoulders so she could kiss him back.

He gathered her closer, arms around her waist- creators she was so small. He could sit her in his lap and completely envelope her with his arms. Her kisses were clumsy; from inexperience or her emotional state he didn't know, but he let her take the lead. Let her press up against him and nip at his lower lip. The hands either side of his neck pulled, her weight bringing him forwards until he tipped forward, one arm around her waist and the other planting them both onto the ground.

"Pidge," He whispered against her lips, but one of her hands cupped around his jaw, keeping him there.

"Sh, don't talk."

Her teeth were on his lip again, sending shivers down his spine at the sharp edge. The groan that escaped him was almost embarrassing but Pidge just hummed in response, working her way down to his neck. 

The voice in the back of his mind trying to tell him this was a bad idea was getting smaller every time she arched up against him, every time her hot breath puffed past his ear. 

He dipped his head even lower, trailing kisses along her jawline, her skin hot and soft and everything he wanted. He stopped to suck on her neck, tasting hot skin and his own body relaxing down to lay along hers.

"Keith... Keith, please."

"Hnh?" He continued nosing at her ear, too caught up in her scent and her warmth to realise what she was asking before she rocked her hips up into his, making him yelp and pull back.

"You know what I want." She whispered, staring up at him with a hunger in her yellow eyes.

"We shouldn't-" he started, but she pulled him back down, stronger as his will wavered and kissing him hard.

"I just want to stop thinking. Just help me stop thinking, just for a while."

"Pidge-" He mumbled between her kisses. "you're making it - real hard - to say no here..."

Pidge paused in the suckling on his skin to lean up and whisper in his ear, "so don't."

He huffed a small laugh, looking down at her one last time before bowing back down to devour her pretty neck. Her hands were everywhere, gripping his arms and grabbing at his tunic and belt before giving up and starting to yank fistfuls of her skirt up towards her waist.

This time when her teeth grazed his pulse point he growled, hiking her skirt up so roughly a seam might have popped but he ignored it and hooked an arm around her hips, pulling her lower half off the ground and up against him. Pidge gasped, and when he glanced up from his own mission to mirror the bites she'd left on his neck the sight of her white canines below her lips was like a shockwave, rippling down into his gut and he ground their hips together.

"Keith." She whined, arms crossing around his neck to keep him close. He turned his head to press kisses to her shoulder and back up to her collarbone as he tugged his belt loose. 

All the times before- every fleeting touch, every brief moment of skin contact- it was like they'd awakened a need to be closer and the more he got the more it wasn't enough. The desire to hold her, to touch her and be touched by her was snowballing out of control and he couldn't stop if he tried. 

Instinct demanded he rip her skirts from her body, roll her onto her knees and ravage her like animals there on the forest floor. Instead he stroked her hair back from her forehead and kissed it as his palm brushed over to rest atop her head, searching for any flicker of doubt. There wasn't a trace of it in her half-lidded eyes or reddened lips as she looked up at him from the shelter his body made over her.

Her nails dug into his arms as he lined himself up and -finally- sank slowly into her. He paused, waiting every time for her squirming to become less uncertain and more needy.

"Keith-" She sighed, breathless and impatient. "Come on, I'm not made of glass here." Her legs came up to hook around his hips, squeezing him closer. This time he shushed her, tucking his face into her neck.

"Let me take care of you."

His palm mapped her leg, up to her knee to hold her steady as he rocked their bodies together. All four limbs clutched at him as though afraid to let go, knees squeezing his waist, hands scrabbling for purchase as her panting grew louder, heavier to match his rhythm.

Her breaths came as quiet little puffs of air, his hand snaking down between them to help her along and turn them into open-mouth whimpers. Yes, this was what he wanted. Her mouth slack, eyelids fluttering shut. He wanted to keep her like this, suspend her in the moment, out of reach of her fears and worries for as long as possible.

Words wanted to come to him, the need to say something, anything, bubbled up inside him but he buried his head back in her neck. He didn't trust himself to speak, only to kiss her shoulder as he rolled his hips until her voice crying out was enough for the both of them. 

Somehow their lips found each other again, Pidge swallowing the groan he couldn't hold back any longer as the build-up hit its peak and spilled over - too soon, too fast. Everything about this felt hurried, desperate despite his intentions; clothes pulled out of the way, dirt kicked up hands grabbing rutting against each other in the firelight.

His breathing was shaky, hands trembling but he was careful to keep their layers of clothes wrapped around them both, trapping the heat they'd created as he rolled her onto her side, closer to the fire and arranging himself so she could nestle up against him.

And she did, those small hands were still trying to work their way under his tunic, but had to settle for tucking one under his arm and the other being pressed between them where they curled together. Sweat drying, breathing returning to normal, Keith curled the arm she was using as a pillow up to stroke her hair, the other making sure she was still wrapped securely in both their cloaks. 

Maybe it had been hurried, sex born of stress and tension, maybe a sentimental part of him would have liked to have done this differently, but as he nosed at her short hair he just felt heavy and content to hold her.

"Keith..." She said finally, so quietly he almost missed it. "Why did my mother have a cloak that would stop me from changing?"

☆☆☆

Keith stiffened, and Pidge's head turned up from under the cloak to look at him, eyes still dark, lips and cheeks flushed. So much for calming her down.

"Pidge... I thought you wanted to 'stop thinking'..."

He kept his tone light but Pidge nudged him and he let his head roll to the side to look at her. She'd already run once. He could imagine the horror of thinking she was a monster, a killer. Could understand, to a point, her refusal to accept reassurances to the opposite. 

Her mother had been one, a Shifter. He wouldn't have needed a wad of letters to figure that out either, but why didn't she say something? Whatever Pidge needed to hear, it shouldn't come from him. They may have just slept together but that didn't mean he knew how to talk to her.

"It's not my place to say."

"But you know, don't you?" Her voice was small, but direct. 

"Not the whole story, Pidge."

"But enough, right? Whatever's going on, my mother was involved, and my brother seemed to know too. And I'm lying here in the dark."

Keith looked back up into the canopy of bare branches that loomed overhead, blocking out the clouded night sky.

"I've ruled out lycanthropy and you don't seem to think I'm cursed. It's surely not an unreasonable jump to something blood related?"

He exhaled heavily through his nose. No, it wasn't an unreasonable assumption.

"You're... what's called a Shifter. And yes, it's passed through blood. But from what I was told, they thought it had skipped you and your brother."

And... my mother?"

Keith swallowed. The warm, gentle doziness he'd been bathing in had drained from him and was being replaced by a cold wave of nausea. Of course she wouldn't drop this. 

"Keith... _My mother_."

"I don't know." He whispered, hoping his low volume would mask the lie. "I never got that far, I just packed a bag and came to get you." 

Pidge didn't respond, mulling his words over and he held his breath until she sighed. "I see."

Her voice was laced with disappointment, body seeming to lose all tension and fully melt against him in defeat. Keith cupped her cheek gently, tilting her head up to kiss her. "Rest tonight. We'll be back tomorrow, and we can ask everything of your brother."

☆

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Nervous to post this tbh but I've got friends invested in it who've asked me to post it, so I am. Anon comments are turned off.


End file.
